Puttin' on the Ritz
by wastingtimewisely
Summary: Enjolras wants to completely abolish prohibition, and Éponine wants Marius to notice her. But, after multiple interactions with the revolutionary leader, does she find that she wants more than love? Does she even want Marius anymore? 1920s AU. Enjolras/Éponine.
1. What's Eating You?

**A/N: Hello there! Yes I am writing an Enjonine fanfic, and this is my first so please cut me some slack! I whole-heartedly accept reviews and constructive criticism, as it does make me a better writer which is what I am really striving to be. **

**In case you all didn't know, this fic is set in the 1920s, so I will be using some slang that they used back then because why not? If I use a phrase you aren't familiar with, visit this site since I'm getting all of the terms from here: local . aaca bntc / slang / slang . htm**

**Without further ado, here is my Enjonine fanfic!**

* * *

"Oh, Éponine, you're a doll!" Marius exclaimed, pulling the dark-haired girl in for a hug. Éponine grinned, hugging him back while her heart skipped several beats. He pulled away fairly quickly, to Éponine's disappointment, as he was distracted by the fact that she had found the whereabouts of the love of his life. Her heart deflated a little at that thought, but she tried to be happy for Marius. After all, if he was happy, she was happy. And the smile on his face was simply beautiful, and it made Éponine feel all fluttery and giddy inside, despite the circumstances.

"Well, I know these streets better than the back of my hand." Éponine smiled, shrugging as Marius pulled on his jacket, adjusting the cuffs once it was on.

"Shall we take my breezer?" Marius asked, looking as if he was about to jump off walls if he didn't meet his beloved soon.

"No, monsieur, I believe you'll be better suited for walking; besides, her home is only a few blocks away." Éponine responded, adjusting her cloche hat. Marius nodded, and almost ran out the door, completely forgetting to hold it open like he normally would for Éponine. She felt a little hurt at that, since he had been the only man in her life to have done such a gentlemanly thing for her in the past. _'He's simply distracted. Once he meets this girl, he'll figure it was all just the result of a crush, and completely forget about her!' _Éponine kept reminding herself as she trailed behind the lovesick fool, who kept on ranting and raving about how excited he was to meet this blonde lark, how his life was going to finally begin once he met her, how he had never felt such a way in his life ever before. She furrowed her eyebrows, and stopped Marius, looking at him with a somewhat serious but mostly curious look. "Monsieur, are you sure you aren't just stuck on?"

Marius gaped at her as if she had just insisted that he should jump off a bridge after he danced in a tutu. "Stuck on? This is much more than a mere crush, dear Éponine," Her heart fluttered when he said 'dear', "This is pure love! I feel as if I can run around the world twice! No, three times! I would run as many times as she commanded! Oh, Éponine, if only you could feel what I felt, you would understand!" She winced at that; if only he knew that she was feeling exactly what he felt at this moment. His smile was plastered on his face again as he leapt onto the base of a street light pole, gripping it and spinning around like a bimbo.

"Get down, you goof!" Éponine laughed, grabbing his arm and pulling him down, smiling widely as he stumbled a bit from the dizziness. When they rounded a corner, Éponine pointed ahead to a fanciful gate with flowers and vines curling around the edges. "There it is." She nodded, and Marius seemed to completely forget who she was or that she was even there as he walked forward as if stalking a deer. In a moment, a beautiful blonde girl appeared at the gate, and their eyes were locked in each other's gazes, and they looked so happy and wonder-filled, that Éponine felt a stab in her heart. Marius never looked at her like that, not ever.

As the whole exchange unfolded in front of Éponine's eyes, she set her jaw, trying hard not to cry since the love of her life was confessing _his _love for someone else right in front of her. She looked down; her heart felt as if someone had their hand wrapped tightly around it, her stomach had dropped to her knees, her head felt all fuzzy and compact like it was full of cotton. Closing her eyes, the dark-haired girl kept telling herself that he was never hers to lose, that she never had a chance anyways, that she was stupid for even bringing him here in the first place, and how could she be so stupid?

She bit her lip, and turned away quickly before she interrupted their exchange with an unintentional sob or squeak or something. Before she knew what was going on, Marius was walking away, and when Éponine looked back to the gate, the blonde girl was gone. She furrowed her eyebrows at that, and jumped when a hand clamped over her shoulder. Éponine whirled around, and gritted her teeth when she saw it was her father behind her.

"What do you want?!" She hissed, so not in the mood to deal with her father and his gang of hoodlums after witnessing her love confess his love to another.

"Calm down, baby, we're just gonna rob this place and then we're gone." Montparnasse piped up, winking at Éponine with a sly grin. She narrowed her eyes and stumbled when her father pushed her aside, approaching the gate.

"Stop, you can't do this!" She exclaimed; if this girl made Marius happy, she wouldn't allow her father to hurt her and in turn cause Marius hurt. When they ignored her, she gritted her teeth and attempted to look as tough as she could. "I'm gonna scream! I'm gonna warn them you're here!"

"You do that, I'll make you scream for a whole year!" Thénardier snarled, although there was a twinge of panic in his eyes. Éponine didn't back down; she wasn't going to allow her father to hurt anyone while she could help it. She pulled back, but then jerked her head forward as she spat in her father's face. He hissed, and smacked his daughter, causing a ripe bruise to start forming on her cheek; but not before she screamed to warn the inhabitants of the house of Marius' love.

When Éponine looked back to the house after recovering for a moment from her father's smack, she realized that they were gone; leaving Éponine alone once again. "Swell." She muttered, deciding to ignore her emotions about the past few minutes; it was always easier that way. Sighing, she ended up going in search of a juice-joint in the hopes of drowning her feelings out, at least for tonight.

* * *

"Take a look at that sheba over there, Enjolras!" Grantaire slurred, leaning against his friend for support at the bar. "Ya know, it's times like these I wish I had your good looks." He stated with an affirmative nod and a pat on Enjolras' cheek.

Enjolras swiveled his head away from his friend's hand, rolling his eyes. "There are more important things than looking at pretty girls in speakeasies, Grantaire." He said with a twinge of irritation.

"That may be," Grantaire responded, holding back a belch, "but sometimes even you, mon ami, have to distract yourself from the _greater purpose _and simply _get some._" He grinned, taking another swig of whatever alcohol he was drinking before Enjolras gingerly pulled it out of his friend's grasp.

"I can't afford to be distracted. You know this, mon ami." He said. Meanwhile, Grantaire was lazily scanning the bar in front of them, littered with men and women in a cloud of smoke and suits and flapper dresses. Eventually, his eyes landed on a brunette sitting alone with a cloche hat, holding a piece of parchment in her hand. Pointing at the girl, Grantaire turned to Enjolras with a sly grin.

"Tell you what, mon ami. If you manage to get a kiss from that girl just over there, I won't drink for a week!" He proposed.

Enjolras smiled sarcastically for a moment before going back to his marble, stoic expression and shook his head. "No. You can't last two hours without a drink, let alone a whole week. And besides, she doesn't look to be in the mood of talking." He said, his eyes landing on the brunette girl in question. Her eyes were droopy, and her hands were gripping the piece of paper with a somewhat ferocity, almost as if she was being forced to hold it. Enjolras felt a pang of pity for the girl; he wasn't entirely sure why, as he needn't concern himself with the most likely petty problems of her. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, what was causing this girl to look so down? Grantaire let out a mighty groan/sigh, snapping Enjolras out of his trance.

"Ughhhhh, you are such a bore. Ya know, people say you're all wet, the bee's knees, the cat's pajamas!" He exclaimed, making grand hand gestures. "But in reality, you are nothing but a baby who cannot even talk to a dame, let alone buy her a drink!"

Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows. Although Grantaire's words meant absolutely nothing to him since he was drunk, he still found his friend to be rather annoying when he got to be the critical-type of drunk. "Alright, I think you've had enough to drink. Let's get ready to leave, Grantaire."

* * *

As she sat on her barstool, Éponine stared at the letter in her hands. The envelope had the prettiest writing she had ever seen, with the prettiest name written on it: _Marius. _She furrowed her eyebrows, turning the letter over in her hands. '_To read, or not to read?'_ She mused to herself in hopes of lifting her spirits. Speaking of spirits…

She took a final swig of her drink, making a face as the burning liquid went down. Éponine predicted a slight hangover in her future, but she didn't much care, seeing as this letter most likely ensured Marius and Cosette's love. Oh, Cosette. She remembered the blonde lark from long ago, when her parents owned a bar and sold alcohol up the wazoo, along with running an inn above their bar. But ever since prohibition, their parents were out of the job and left Éponine and her family penniless. Thénardier was now the leader of a mafia, and she and her sister were constantly pushed into whatever plans they needed to pull off; whether it be a robbery or a killing—Éponine wished she had more drink to drown out her memories—she and Azelma were always there to aid her father and his gang in cheating innocent people. She had no idea that two men a few feet away were talking about her, one of them egging the other on to kiss her or at least buy her a drink. If she did know, Éponine would smile to herself and insist that it was only a joke, that these men didn't really think she was pretty. The one man she _wanted _to think she was pretty was slipping through her fingers, probably already lost, and it stabbed in her heart like a thorn every time the thought reappeared inside her head. The alcohol dulled this pain, but now that her drink was gone, her emotions were beginning to get the better of her.

Éponine looked down, folding her hands in her lap as she fought back tears. After a moment, the clink of a glass in front of her alerted the young girl. She pressed her fingers to the corners of her eyes, and smiled as politely as she could to the bartender.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't order another drink." She said, but the bartender nodded in the direction of the door.

"You didn't need to, miss, that blonde man paid for it." He answered, and Éponine spun around. Indeed, there was a man with golden curly hair exiting with a dark-haired man who seemed to be intoxicated. She smiled a small genuine smile for a moment, just as the man looked back. He gave her a tiny smile as well, just a small hint of a smile, but it somehow sent a warm fuzzy feeling to her gut; a feeling that wasn't the result of alcohol.


	2. Drinks and Recognition

**A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews and favorites! I'm so glad people are actually reading my fic asldkjahmj**

**Well, since this is an AU I'm obviously going to be off-canon, in the sense that, in the movie/brick when Éponine got the letter Marius was supposed to receive from Cosette, the barricade/revolution happened and everyone we ever loved was killed. I was thinking that perhaps I'd like Éponine and Enjolras' relationship to grow a bit more before the actual revolution (in this fic, Enjolras is going to be leading a revolt against prohibition.) Anyhow, just thought I'd let y'all know what you were getting into, and the general gist of this whole fic now that I've got the hang of it, haha! On with the fic!**

**Reviews and comments are much appreciated!**

Éponine was walking down the street, kicking pebbles absently. She had been thinking of Marius and Cosette, as much as she tried not to. No matter what, the beautiful couple found a way into her head and made her feel empty and stupid inside. Empty because of the love the felt for Marius, and how it had been ripped out of her in the instant she saw the way he was looking at Cosette; he loved her so much, and he would never love Éponine. Not after staring at Cosette in such a way. She felt stupid because she had actually hoped that Marius; handsome, kind, perfect Marius, would ever love her. Éponine was a street urchin, with absolutely nothing to show for her; she didn't have any viable talents, no way to get a job because she needed experience and she also needed to stay home and look after her siblings because her parents wouldn't, they'd be too busy scamming people.

She looked up, hearing footsteps. In front of her, Marius and Cosette were walking down the street, arm in arm. Cosette was in a gorgeous flapper dress that was tiffany blue, along with a matching cloche hat and pearls to make the outfit perfect. Marius was in a sharp suit, looking as handsome as ever, which inadvertently caused Éponine to smile. If she never had a chance with him, the least she could do was appreciate his looks, right?

"Bonjour, Marius!" She exclaimed happily, waving a hand.

Marius and Cosette stopped, both with a disgusted expression. Cosette leaned over to Marius and muttered way too loudly, "Isn't that the nasty poor girl who's in love with you?"

He rolled his eyes, almost as if it was a chore for him to even be standing in front of Éponine. "Yes, I don't even know why she's here. Why don't you beat it, and go back to your pathetic excuse for a home?" He almost spat.

Éponine was taken aback. This wasn't Marius, how could he talk to her like this? And Cosette was such a kind person, she was practically a princess. Why were they being so cruel to her?

'_Because you're useless and a bother to everyone around you, Éponine. This shouldn't come as a surprise to you! It was bound to happen, Cosette and Marius pushing you away and treating you the way you deserve. You're such a fool to think that they would ever treat you kindly! How stupid can you get?' _She thought with defeat. Still, as Marius and Cosette began to make their way from Éponine, she reached out to touch Marius' arm.

"Wait, Marius, I-" She began, but was cut off as he spun around and smacked her hard across the face, precisely where her father had hit her when she was standing and watching Marius and Cosette meet for the first time.

"Get away from me, you moll!" He yelled.

Éponine gasped, sitting straight up in her bed. Or rather, her makeshift bed.

She brought a shaking hand to her sweaty brow, taking deep breaths. "Only a dream, only a dream…" She muttered to herself over and over. Her little brother, Gavroche, was sleeping soundly across the room. Éponine tried to smile, focusing on his peaceful form in an attempt to calm herself down.

Marius—dream Marius—had called her a moll, a gangster's wife or mistress. Éponine shivered, bringing her knees up to her chest as Montparnasse popped into her mind. He had used her a few times, for various things; things she preferred not to think about. But ever since she had started hanging out with Marius, he left her alone for the most part, only flirting with her or… occasionally feeling her up if he so pleased. The only hook was that Éponine forced him to pay a little, so that her father wouldn't be so hard on her if she returned home with no money.

What dream Marius said really made Éponine think: '_is that what he thinks of me? As a gangster's mistress?' _She was more than that, wasn't she? Sure, Éponine had a low opinion of herself, but she never really loved Montparnasse, and she was positive he never loved her. She was simply a stress reliever for him, and now that Marius was in love with Cosette, how was Éponine to find an excuse to escape her house? Surely her parents would force her to partake in their crimes again, now that the lovely boy she loved was no longer taking up her time; or rather, she wasn't taking up his time. She sighed, and stood up.

Obviously, Éponine wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep tonight. She glanced at the small clock in their room, making out the time with a little difficulty: 1:15 am. The speakeasy was most likely open at this time, and Éponine could use a drink.

It was only when she thought of the speakeasy that the man with the golden hair popped into her mind. She remembered smiling genuinely to him for buying her the drink, and she remembered him smiling back. Perhaps she could see him again at the bar, to thank him for buying her that drink; it was quite expensive, after all. First, though, Éponine resolved to take a walk around town for a bit, just to clear her head. It always soothed her to go on walks when it was dark but still morning; it seemed so surreal and odd, that so many people could be sleeping while she had what seemed like the whole world to herself for about a few hours, before the people with jobs and families began waking up.

She didn't bother putting her hair up in a cloche hat like she usually would; all the pretty girls had their hair cut to their chin, and Éponine had always been so jealous, since she could never afford to get her hair done. Her mother wouldn't be able to cut her hair to Éponine's liking, and she was too scared to try it on her own for fear of getting a horrid haircut. So, unlike almost all of the girls in her town, Éponine had very long hair and very few dresses in fashion.

Still, at least when she walked around in the wee hours of the morning, she didn't have to feel insecure or feel the need to impress Marius. The whole walk was quite soothing, even if she had to push her thoughts out of her mind for an hour or so. After Éponine had walked her fill, she made her way to the speakeasy and estimated the time to be about 2:30.

As she entered the bar, she was quite surprised to find a group of men gathered at a booth, all huddled around the table and talking very seriously and excitedly with each other. Whatever they were talking about, Éponine forced herself not to eavesdrop as she eased herself down onto a barstool, waiting for the bartender's attention.

However hard she strained to ignore the men, however, one name popped out to her: "Cosette". She spun around, looking at the group curiously.

"Marius," A voice said, seeming to be quite irritated but very level, "No one cares about your lonely soul. There are more pressing matters to deal with!"

Murmurs of agreement.

"Marius?" Éponine muttered, and sure enough, Marius was at the group, still looking somewhat love-struck.

"But you weren't there, Enjolras! She was so perfect; I cannot wait to meet her again! Oh, I do hope she'll be there tomorrow!" Marius exclaimed.

"You mean today." A voice corrected, amused.

"Enjolras, we have worked hard. Perhaps it is time we take a break?" Another voice suggested hopefully. A pause, and then a nod of consent from the man named Enjolras. Éponine couldn't get a clear view of all of the men, since the bar was quite dimly lit and she was still slightly sleepy, even from her walk.

"Marius, be a darling and get the drinks!" A joking voice called, and chuckles sounded from the group.

"Only if you pay!" Marius called back, obviously in a good mood even if it was late (or early), as he made his way over to the bar, chuckling. "A round of drinks for the whole bar!" He said enthusiastically. The bartender shrugged, and began preparing the drinks.

Éponine couldn't keep silent; she had to talk to Marius, even if she never had a chance with him now and even if the dream version she saw scared her. She had to verify that her dream Marius wasn't the one standing near her right now.

"Marius?" She said quietly, hoping he heard her.

"Hmm? Éponine!" Marius exclaimed, smiling widely as he made his way over to her. That smile still gave her butterflies. "What are you doing here at this time of night? Or, morning?" He laughed pleasantly.

"Oh, I couldn't sleep." Éponine replied easily, plastering on a smile. "What are _you_ doing here, monsieur?"

"It's quite a secret, Éponine." Marius replied mysteriously.

"Oh come now, Marius, you know better than anyone that I can keep a secret! Spill the beans!" She giggled, hoping she looked as charming as she thought.

"Well…" Marius began, purposely taking a while to answer. "All right, you got me. Come, I shall introduce you first!" He grinned, taking Éponine over to the table where the other men were gathered. Many of them were smoking, and there were empty drinking glasses, so they had obviously been here a while. "Grantaire, Joly, Bossuet, Bahorel, Courfeyrac, Feuilly, Jehan, Comeferre, and Enjolras," Marius announced as he pointed to each man in turn, "Meet Éponine!"

"I'll say!" Grantaire exclaimed. "Now, you may have been a drunk hallucination, but-"

"Éponine, you have long hair?" Marius interrupted, and of course Éponine paid attention to Marius even though Grantaire spoke first.

"O-oh, yes, um, I didn't want it cut." She answered, feeling slightly insecure now that Marius had brought up her long hair. Did everyone else notice that her hair was long and not short? She knew she should have worn her hat out, even if it was late. Still, it made her slightly bubbly that Marius had noticed something about her.

"As I was saying," Grantaire huffed dramatically, "My dear, you may have been a drunk hallucination; however, I do believe I saw you earlier this evening sitting over at that bar! I egged this one on to buy you a drink, but he refused because he's a bluenose." The whole group laughed, and Éponine looked at the one Grantaire was calling a bluenose.

And there he was; the one who bought her the drink that lifted her spirits from being crushed by Marius. She blinked, trying not to seem as if she had recognized him, although he didn't show any sign of remembering buying her a drink. That was rude, to say the least. She had hoped that the mysterious man who bought her a drink was some sort of gentleman who thought Éponine was beautiful, and that if they ever met again he would ask her on a date or for a dance. She should have known better; this man seemed to be more of a marble statue than the dreamy prince she had come up with.

Éponine slipped into her flirty self, mostly to mess around with the group, but also in the hopes of getting more free alcohol.

"Well, if any of you aren't bluenoses, I'd accept any drinks you darbs have to offer!" She grinned, taking a seat between Joly and Grantaire.

"Looks like you lost your chance, Enjolras!" Grantaire teased, leaning over to Éponine dramatically. "She likes me better."

Enjolras rolled his eyes while Éponine replied with a quick-witted retort, "I may only like you for your money, you goof."

"Gold digger!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, slapping a hand upon his chest in dramatic surprise.

While everyone was laughing, Enjolras pulled Marius aside.

"Marius, how many women can you be in love with?" He asked, exasperated.

"Éponine?" Marius asked in surprise and amusement. "No, I'm not in love with her! She's simply a friend. I thought you'd enjoy her company because she said she's interested in what we're doing."

"She may only be interested because you're here." Enjolras pointed out. He had seen the way Éponine was looking at Marius at the bar; it was almost the same look Marius had when talking about Cosette.

"Baloney!" Marius chuckled, waving his hand dismissively. "Besides, a woman's opinion might help in our little revolution!"

"It isn't little. This is quite a big step, Marius, and if you even bothered to pay attention to-" Enjolras started to lecture Marius, but he rolled his eyes and muttered that he was going to get the drinks for everyone. Enjolras sighed, and moved back to his seat, noticing that everyone was staring at him expectantly. "Yes?" He asked, trying not to sound irritated.

"Shouldn't you explain to this lovely dame what our purpose of being here tonight is?" Joly prompted.

Enjolras held back a sigh. The truth was, he was incredibly tired and stressed and explaining a complicated matter to a new person was quite difficult, especially after he had been using his mind to great lengths this entire night.

"All right." He responded, figuring he'd get it over with rather than get into an argument with his fellow students. "You see, the act of prohibition has been around for quite some time, but has only really begun to take effect now."

"How so?" Éponine asked, and Enjolras looked surprised that the brunette was actually taking an interest in what he was saying; usually others didn't really have an interest as to how he planned to make a change, or his knowledge of history.

"Well, it initially began a little before 1650, though not on an international scale like in our situation. The Virginia Colonial Assembly ruled that 'Ministers shall not give themselves to excess in drinkinge, or riott, or spending their tyme idellye day or night,' in 1629." He explained, and Éponine spoke up again.

"But if it only applied to ministers, that seems quite logical, so how could it have applied to the people in general?" She asked, trying to sound as educational as Enjolras. She expected him to wave off her question, ordering her to stay silent while he explained, but instead he answered her question with patience and a sense of understanding.

"It didn't, at first. But, you see, the church was quite a big part of everyone's life back then; so much so that if one didn't attend a service, they were hunted down and questioned as to why they weren't in attendance. The church was actually more powerful than the government, and it had a larger impact on the general public and often set many rules to 'help them get into heaven'. So the people figured, well if the ministers aren't drinking, I should too if I want to get into heaven! And later, Massachusetts ordered that no person shall remain in any tavern longer than necessary occasions in 1637, while Plymouth Colony in 1633 prohibited the sale of spirits more than 2 pence worth to anyone but strangers just arrived. The church was quite clever in the ways they manipulated the people to do what they ordained." Enjolras responded. "Did that answer your question?"

"Yes, it did. But I can't help but wonder why everyone would attend a church service when they hunted down those who didn't attend. It's a little…" Éponine searched for a word to describe it; an intelligent word, "…barbaric, isn't it?"

Enjolras almost chuckled at her word choice. "Well, yes, it was pretty barbaric. Which brings me to another point…"

He continued to talk and explain and preach to Éponine his ideas and beliefs about the injustices of the government throughout history—Enjolras was particularly knowledgeable and passionate about the French revolution—and every once in a while, Éponine would interrupt with her opinion or a question or a suggestion. As they came to the end of their conversation, she asked a question that had been nagging at the back of her mind since about the middle of their banter.

"So, your basic goal right now is to end prohibition and bring justice to the people?" She asked, waiting for another grand exclamation or interesting, improvised speech from the golden-haired man in front of her.

Enjolras paused, thinking for a moment to organize his thoughts. "In a sense, yes. As you have probably gathered, I do not approve of the idea of a set group of people dictating what citizens should and shouldn't do. The people should be able to make their own decisions, and it's silly that the government doesn't trust the very foundation of their colony to make rational decisions."

"But-" Éponine began to raise a logical argument, when Grantaire interrupted with a loud groan.

"You two have been beatin' your gums for the longest while, and I for one am a bit tired of discussing revolution. Care for a drink, Éponine? I'm sure you're completely exhausted from talking with this marble statue." He grinned, sliding Éponine a drink while she chuckled and Enjolras glared at Grantaire.

"He's alright when he isn't ordering you lot about, I'm sure." She responded, taking a sip of the strong alcohol. The thought of bringing up the fact that Enjolras had bought her a drink last night crossed her mind, but she decided against it, thinking that perhaps he wanted to keep up the image of a man who couldn't be distracted by anything; a topic he brought up in their conversation.

"I wonder what Cosette's favorite drink is!" Marius exclaimed suddenly, and a few of the boys either chuckled or rolled their eyes. Enjolras rolled his eyes, Éponine noticed.

"I don't think she'd drink, monsieur. She seems to be an innocent lark, doesn't she?" Éponine called across the table to Marius, in the hopes that she could shine some negative light on the beautiful girl. However, Marius seemed completely enamored with this thought.

"You're right! Oh, then I could see her reaction to drinking for the first time! It would be so incredibly charming, she is such a doll!" He laughed, taking another sip of his beverage.

"Oh, charming, right, yeah. Nothing's more charming than a girl up-chucking her first sip of giggle water." Éponine muttered, and Grantaire caught this comment.

"I agree, my dear; I personally love a girl who can hold her liquor." He winked, taking a sip out of his bottle.

"Was that an invitation to show my skills, Grantaire?" Éponine asked, smiling cunningly and raising her eyebrows.

"Go right ahead, mademoiselle!" Grantaire cried, shifting in his seat in anticipation; he had yet to see a charming girl such as Éponine down a whiskey in one gulp, and he was quite excited at the prospect of it happening right now.

She grinned, and took the drink her hand, licking her lips and staring down the drink. The whole table was looking at her, including Enjolras, who had pulled out a book after their conversation was interrupted by Grantaire.

In one motion, Éponine brought the whiskey to her lips and gulped down the whole of the frosty drink. When it was all gone from the glass, she slammed it down with a loud clank and let out a "WHOO!" of accomplishment. The rest of the table erupted into a round of applause, and Éponine felt quite proud.

Marius looked amused, which warmed her heart that he had been paying attention to her. Grantaire clapped her on her back, a wide smile on his face, and Éponine turned to him to smile back, laughing excitedly.

She managed to sneak a glance at Enjolras, and Éponine could have sworn she saw him smile.


	3. A Study in Pianos

**A/N: Thanks very much for the reviews and favorites! Aaaah I'm so happy you guys enjoy my writing, you don't even know!**

**There isn't much to say about this chapter, it's slightly filler-y, but I thought that Eponine needed a female friend in order to function properly around Les Amis aha!**

**Reviews and favorites are much appreciated!**

* * *

After that night at the speakeasy, Éponine made it a point to visit it every evening and talk with the men. They seemed to quite enjoy her presence, mostly because every time she sat with them, the group made it a decision to take a break from their planning of a revolt and engage her in conversation. Normally, Enjolras would frown upon distractions like this, but he and Éponine did have very insightful and calming conversations that helped to wind his brain down after a long night of wracking it for ideas to evade the police. Sometimes, Enjolras even taught Éponine simple lessons in philosophy, literature, or just pitch ideas at her and she would pitch ideas back. He came to find that speaking with her was much easier than speaking with the other women in his lifetime, most of who were completely distracted by his looks and didn't seem all that interested in what he had to say. In fact, Enjolras found himself looking forward to Éponine's arrival and was always a little disappointed when someone interrupted their talks.

Every night, Éponine would enter the speakeasy, have a chat with Enjolras until someone interrupted them, have a shot or two of whiskey once in a while, make idle chat with the boys, and go home happier than she was when she entered. And the best part of it all was that her parents never found out, because they were asleep or committing a crime while she was out. However, she barely got any sleep as a result of staying out late.

Her parents demanded her to get up quite early every morning to perform the necessary chores or crimes, and lately, Éponine had been slacking due to her extreme tiredness.

"Éponine, why the hell are you slackin'?" Madame Thénardier demanded, shoving a pail and a mop in her daughter's hands, who was currently leaning against a wooden beam with her eyes half-open. "We may not own this house, but I don't want it lookin' like a pigsty if we're gonna be scammin' the riches tonight." She scowled.

"Right, the riches…" Éponine murmured, forcing herself to her feet and began mopping up the various stains on their floor. Tonight, a new night club was opening a few blocks from their home—the Chez Paree—and it was quite an expensive and grand place. There were many reservations to get into the beautiful club, and the best way to get there was through her neighborhood. The Thénardiers had concocted quite a plan to both get into the night club and to scam the people on the way there. Her mother often referred to people with a lot of money as 'riches', which Éponine didn't understand ever since Enjolras had explained to her so many things about their language. Her mother's speaking pattern got on Éponine's nerves now, mostly because what she said wasn't proper or her words weren't real words, such as the word 'ain't'.

"Did ya steal a dress for tonight yet?" Madame Thénardier asked. "You ain't gonna be showin' up in that excuse for a dress, that's for sure."

"Not yet, maman." Éponine responded, setting the mop and bucket aside as she held back a yawn. "May I go and steal it now?" She honestly just wanted to get out of the house and see if maybe Les Amis were at the speakeasy.

"Fine, just make sure you actually look good in the damn thing. And don't get caught, I don't wanna have to bail you out of jail." Madame Thénardier responded, and Éponine grinned, nodding and hurrying out of the house.

Once she was outside, she yawned and stretched, sighing happily after the mighty stretch. Éponine grinned, pulling her hair into a bun and pushed her cloche hat on top of her head, and made her way to the speakeasy.

* * *

"It was quite instantaneous, you see." Marius continued, his hands clasped around Cosette's as he stared at her with the most love a man could have. "As soon as our eyes met… We knew—I knew—that there could never be anyone else for me—for us. My life began as soon as I laid eyes on her."

They kissed again, and Jehan sighed happily. "You two are simply perfect for each other. Would you mind if I wrote a poem about you?"

"You may, if you please." Cosette smiled bashfully, and Marius smiled in turn.

"Why are you here again?" Enjolras asked irritably, his finger pressed to his temple as his elbow rested against the table.

"Because this lovely girl is going to get us into the Chez Paree without any hassle from the police!" Bahorel replied through a forced smile. Ah, yes, Enjolras needed reminding of this fact since his brain was being turned to mush because of all the silly love talk that was going on. "Cosette, you say your father overlooked the construction of this club, correct?"

"Oh, yes, it's such a lovely place! Very ritzy, I hope you all will be dressed for the occasion!" Cosette smiled brightly, and was about to go on about how it looked on the inside and what sort of bands would be playing that night, when Éponine entered the bar, pushing the door a little more roughly than she had intended. The door slammed against the wall, and she winced, quickly pulling it away from the wall sheepishly. Enjolras sat up a bit straighter, quite thankful and relieved that his friend had shown up right when he was about to kill himself from all the love in the room.

"Aha, sorry…" She grinned, but her smile disappeared as soon as she laid eyes on Cosette and Marius, their hands intertwined.

"Éponine! Bonjour!" He smiled brightly. "This is-"

"Cosette." Éponine breathed, her eyes lowering to the floor. "Yes. I, um, I remember you two."

"Was she the one who brought us together in the first place?" Cosette asked pleasantly, smiling to Éponine.

"Yes, my dear," Marius smiled, and Éponine numbly made her way over to her usual seat between Joly and Grantaire. Just as she was about to sit, Joly quickly spoke up.

"Oh, Éponine, I hope you don't mind, but Musichetta is sitting there." He said kindly, though the words did hurt her. Perhaps it was just because Marius and Cosette were there, but Éponine felt a bit sad that she couldn't sit there. That had been her spot for a week and a half, and now suddenly she couldn't sit there anymore? And who was Musichetta?

Still, Éponine smiled as sweetly as she could. "That's all right. I'll find another spot to sit."

"You can sit on my lap!" Grantaire piped up, and he and Courfeyrac laughed good-heartedly. Éponine blushed, shaking her head, still smiling.

"Aha, no thanks, I'll sit here." She proceeded to sit in the seat next to Enjolras, who was currently rolling his eyes at Marius and Cosette's seemingly constant kissing. If Éponine wasn't so hurt at the two of them being there, she would have made a funny comment about how Enjolras looked as if he were about to erupt into flames. Their conversations always started out with Éponine making a joke, and Enjolras almost wondered why she didn't say anything to him when she sat.

She had thought that if she didn't give the letter to Marius that Cosette had left for him, then Marius would forget about her and she'd still have a chance. But, alas, they had met each other again just this morning and Marius decided to introduce her to Les Amis. But Éponine wondered why Enjolras was putting up with it; he only put up with Éponine because she wasn't as much of a distraction, but Cosette and Marius were quite distracting and he didn't seem to be much enjoying their presence.

"Enjolras," She murmured in a questioning tone, "I know for a fact that you can't stand all this gooey love stuff, so why are you tolerating these two?"

Enjolras huffed, turning to Éponine, who held back another yawn. "Cosette's father is a wealthy businessman who built a very popular nightclub; perhaps you've heard of it? The Chez Paree, and it's opening tonight. All of the government officials and their wives will be there, which means-"

"You get an insight on whether they know about the planned uprisings or not." Éponine finished. Enjolras nodded, the corners of his mouth twitching in an almost smile. He appreciated Éponine's quick thought processes and how she could keep up with him so well. "But you can only get that information if you're inside the club. I heard the guest list was already filled up, so…"

"Well, Cosette told us that there were still a few spots open. In fact, that's what I was planning on asking you. Luckily, there are enough spots open for all of Les Amis, but there was one extra spot and I was wondering if you would like to fill it." Enjolras stated, his gaze holding hers.

Éponine almost smiled; it was kind of him to invite her to such a grand party, but she wouldn't be able to attend because of two reasons; 1) she didn't have the proper attire, and 2) her parents were already planning to use her in their plan to get into the club.

"Thank you for the offer, Enjolras, but I can't." She said, feeling even more empty now that she wouldn't be able to attend with them. And now that they were going to the night club, she would have to avoid them the entire night unless they wanted to be robbed by her or her family.

"What? Why not?" Grantaire piped up.

Éponine jumped, surprised that he had been listening in to their conversation when everyone was so interested in the beautiful Cosette. "I don't have the proper clothes." She smiled apologetically, and Grantaire huffed, standing up.

"Listen here! Éponine says she won't be able to come with us because she 'doesn't have the proper clothes'!" He put air-quotes around 'doesn't have the proper clothes', which caused a few people to laugh but Cosette to look at her in worry.

"Éponine! Why didn't you say so? Musichetta and I were planning on going shopping this afternoon, if you'd so like to join us!" She smiled cutely.

Éponine shook her head. "No, no, I don't have the money to shop." She turned them down once again. Why was everyone so bent on having her attend this party?

"Well, then I will buy you your clothes." Cosette said affirmatively.

"No, please, I don't want your charity-"

"What's this about buying other people their clothes?" A beautiful girl with caramel skin and bright eyes came and sat next to Joly, her hand intertwining with his.

"Musichetta, this is Éponine! We're taking her shopping with us this afternoon." Cosette smiled, taking a sip of her water.

"I'll say! Joly has told me about you, Éponine, and how you've managed to crack this marble statue." Musichetta grinned.

"No, I'm not going shop—wait, what?" Éponine asked helplessly.

"You've managed to make Enjolras smile! And you can hold a conversation with him without getting bored to tears. That, my dear, is quite an accomplishment." Musichetta said matter-of-factly, drinking some of her coffee. "So, Cosette, would Éponine look better in tiffany blue, or blood red?"

"Excuse me," Éponine mumbled, standing up quickly and walking off to the bathrooms in a rush as Cosette and Musichetta speculated on what Éponine should wear.

* * *

She closed the door to the restroom, leaning her forehead against the door and took a few deep breaths. How did Éponine manage to get into this mess? If her parents found out that she was going to the nightclub with a bunch of rich students—

Oh. They were rich. That solved everything, actually; part of the plan was for Éponine to slip in with a rich boy and help her parents enter through the back. She could still do that without letting Les Amis know, and at the same time she'd be able to keep them away from her parent's nimble, thieving fingers. There, problem solved! All she had to do now was get a proper dress (not one too expensive, she didn't want Cosette to spend much on the likes of her), inform her parents of how she had managed to get in with a rich boy, and protect Les Amis from her family. Plus, she'd have to avoid Marius and Cosette the whole night if she wanted to have a pleasant experience.

Speaking of Marius and Cosette, Éponine wasn't sure she'd be able to handle sitting at that table much longer. But she didn't want to just leave, that might offend Les Amis or cause them to worry about her, and she definitely didn't want their pity.

Éponine resolved to just engage someone else at the table in conversation and attempt to ignore Marius and Cosette, however much it hurt. Besides, she had to get over him at some point. Although, based on the pain she still felt after seeing him and Cosette together, she wasn't so sure she'd be able to get over him soon. She moved over to the mirror, and was once again disappointed in her appearance. Éponine's cheeks were hollow, her collarbones were quite visible, and her eyes had dark circles underneath them. She had only gotten about 3 or 4 hours of sleep each night since she began hanging out with Les Amis, but she didn't want to stop going to the speakeasy in the wee hours of the morning or late hours of the night to talk to them. Éponine sighed heavily, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to get the dark circles off, but to no avail. She ran her hands under some water, brought the cold up to her face, and hoped she'd be able to stay awake through the rest of the day and the night.

In a few minutes, Éponine exited the bathroom and stiffened when she noticed that Marius and Cosette were kissing again. She didn't want to sit back down over there, not with all the pain she was still experiencing, so she resolved to make her way over to the piano that was currently unoccupied. Éponine sat down, her fingers going over the black and white keys with barely a sense of familiarity. When she was little, she would plunk out little tunes on the piano in her parent's bar. The customers found it adorable and endearing that a little girl would play for them, so she helped earn her parents some extra money. Once she grew out of the cute little girl stage, though, she was forced into the life of crime.

Although, perhaps she was born into it?

Absentmindedly, the brunette began to plunk out Mary Had a Little Lamb, humming to herself and occasionally hitting the wrong key to which she would pause and find the right one, and then continue on with her little song. Eventually she moved on to Row, Row, Row Your Boat, and then she just plunked out random notes; softly, so that no one could hear from over at the table.

But someone did hear; Enjolras had gotten so tired of hearing everyone ask questions about Marius and Cosette and their stupidly sweeter-than-honey answers, that he tuned everyone out and noticed that the sound of a piano was carrying through the bar. He sat up, looking to the piano and noticed Éponine sitting quietly there, in her own little world.

Enjolras felt a tiny smile form on his lips; for some reason, he didn't get up right away to talk to her or look away and find a book to read. No, instead, he just noticed her and kept noticing the little things she did, like if she made a mistake, she'd mutter "wait" and then eventually get the right note. Her other hand was gripping the piano bench, tapping out a slow rhythm or playing other notes in the air that she herself wasn't confident enough to play on the actual instrument.

Enjolras noticed himself noticing her, and forced himself to stop. Why was he noticing? There was no point at all; it wasn't like what she was doing was interesting, why did it catch his eye?

No, she herself didn't catch his eye; the instrument did. Enjolras was very practiced in piano playing, and since there was one sitting right there and his friends' conversations didn't interest him, it seemed to be quite a practical thing to go over and join Éponine.

And so he did; Enjolras stood up, quietly making his way over to Éponine and the piano, waiting a moment before he made his presence known.

"May I join you?" He asked. Éponine looked startled, but she nodded in consent, scooting over to give him room on the bench. "I didn't know you played piano." He said idly, placing his hands in position to play Mozart's 'Adagio and Allegro'. As he began, Éponine gave a small smile and looked down at her hands.

"Oh, I don't. I played as a child and earned a bit of money for my parents because people thought I was cute." She replied, and her eyes drifted to his hands, which were expertly moving over the piano, nimbly exploring the instrument as if it were terrain that he had known since birth.

"Well, it's much better than Jehan's pathetic attempts at love songs that he seems to write every week." He pointed out, to which Éponine chuckled.

"Every week? I've never heard one." She smiled, to which Enjolras smirked ever so slightly.

"Well, either he's written one about you and is too embarrassed to play it for you, or you're somehow lucky enough that he forgets to play it for you every time you're around."

"Was that a joke, Enjolras? Hmm, it seems Musichetta was right, I _have _cracked you!"

"Don't get too full of yourself." Enjolras raised an eyebrow, and purposely bumped shoulders with Éponine gently, in a joking manner. Éponine exaggerated her reaction, pretending to almost fall off the bench.

"Golly! You trying to kill me?" She grinned.

"Quite the opposite." He replied, his eyes focused on his hands. "Have you ever heard this song?"

"No, but is it… Beethoven?" Éponine tried, raising her eyebrows and biting her lip.

Enjolras smiled. "No, try again."

"Hmm… Mozart?"

"Atta girl." He leaned over her slightly to reach the notes in his right hand, and brought them back down to middle C, continuing the song in a softer tone. "Do you know the history behind this piece?"

"No, please indulge me." Éponine grinned; she knew that Enjolras would somehow work in an educational bit of information in every talk they had.

"Well," Enjolras began, slowing the song down so that he could concentrate on what he was explaining. "It was originally written as a funeral mass to be played on a mechanical organ clock for Field Marshal Gideon Baron of Laudon, but was later rededicated to Count Joseph Deym's Müllersche Kunstgalerie in Vienna. Although he intended the piece to be played on a mechanical clockwork organ, he wished later that it could be played on a conventional organ. In a letter to his wife Constanze, he wrote, "if only the mechanism were not merely miniature pipes that are far too high-pitched; they strike me as too infantile, not intended for playing such a piece". But after time passed he seemed content, saying later that the work and its installation in the gallery in "fruitlessness and purity and compatibility to the works of art eclipses anything that anyone has ever succeeded in producing". The piece lasts roughly ten minutes, however I am playing a shorter version because—well, 1) my fingers can't possibly last 10 minutes on a piano-"

"And what _can_ your fingers last ten minutes on, monsieur?" Éponine interrupted, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Enjolras paused his playing, obviously trying not to blush. He visibly gulped, causing a great smile to spread across her face. Every once in a while, Eponine would make an inappropriate joke and watch in amusement as Enjolras paused to compose himself before continuing with whatever he was saying. He cleared his throat, and continued to play, shifting in his seat. "… and 2) I don't believe you'd want to hear ten minutes of my rusty piano skills."

"I think they're alright." Éponine shrugged, still smiling at him. She kept her eyes on his face for a moment more, and then looked back to his hands. In a minute or two, they finally plunked out the last notes and Enjolras sat back, seemingly quite proud of himself. "Can you play another song?" She asked, scooting slightly closer to him since she was almost falling off the seat.

Enjolras nodded, quite pleased that Éponine was both willing to listen to his playing, and listen to his somewhat useless information on various things. He began to play Piano Sonata No. 4, and looked to Éponine expectantly to guess who it was.

"Is it Mozart again?" She tried, and Enjolras shook his head, a small grin still on his face. "Beethoven? I really only know two, Enjolras." Éponine laughed, and Enjolras chuckled.

"Yes, it's Beethoven. Would you like-"

"Yes, get on with it; tell me the history of this piece." Éponine giggled, and Enjolras smiled wider.

"If you insist. I actually don't know much about this piece, other than the fact that it's sometimes nicknamed the Grand Sonata, and was dedicated to his student Babette Countess Keglevics." He said, and Éponine nodded.

"I see. That's quite fortunate that you don't know much about this piece, because the names people had back then are so mind-boggling, I don't think I'd be able to take another second of them. Hope you don't mind, but," Éponine yawned, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth and in turn cause Enjolras to smile yet again, "I'm quite tired." And she rested her head upon his shoulder, closing her eyes and focusing only on Enjolras playing the piano; not on Marius and Cosette, not on her family, not on how hungry she was or how much money she would need to make tonight in order to get a decent meal. No, the only thing she focused on was Enjolras, his warmth, and the music.

And the only thing Enjolras focused on was the music, Éponine, and her warmth.

* * *

**A/N: My thoughts and prayers go out to those who have been affected by the Boston shooting. xo**


	4. Shops, Plans, and Complications

**A/N: Thanks again for all the reviews and favorites and follows! It really does mean a lot that you guys are reading my story!**

**This chapter is definitely filler material, but I had a lot of fun writing it and it gave me a chance to show Éponine that Cosette really isn't all that bad, and plus Musichetta is very fun to write. So, without further ado, here is chapter 4!**

* * *

Éponine startled awake at the sound of someone clearing their throat. She sat up straight, quickly rubbing her eyes to get the sleep out of them.

"Sorry to wake you, but Cosette and Musichetta are about to go on their, um…" Enjolras began, looking to the two women standing beside the piano for help.

"Shopping spree, I guess you could call it!" Musichetta grinned, "Unless you two wanna stay here and cuddle more…" She raised her eyebrows mischievously.

"We weren't cuddling!" Éponine exclaimed, and Enjolras stiffened at Musichetta's use of words. "I was just very tired, and Enjolras' coat is very soft." She nodded affirmatively, looking to Enjolras with a little smirk. Her friend sat there looking a little uncomfortable, probably because Cosette and Musichetta had taken what they were doing the wrong way. However, Éponine felt quite comfortable around Enjolras, and she was extremely tired, so it was pretty innocent of her to take a little nap upon his shoulder. Plus, it was nice to see his marble stature crumble a little at the piano; he seemed much more relaxed there than when he and Éponine discussed political events or his plans for the rebellion. She made a note to ask him to play piano more often, as he did look more refreshed and less stressed out than he did before.

He cleared his throat again, standing up and moving to the other side of the piano bench. "Yes, well, whatever we _were _doing shouldn't be done tonight. You three are vital parts of our plan, as if in the event something goes wrong, you can-"

"Charm our way in with our feminine wiles?" Musichetta finished, and purposely dropped a hip, accentuating her curvy and perfectly proportioned body. Éponine giggled, but Cosette looked frightened.

"Will we really have to…" She almost gulped, "seduce our way in?"

Enjolras gave Musichetta an annoyed look, and then shook his head to Cosette. "No. As you said, your father has ensured that we will all be able to attend, yes?"

"Yes, of course! Papa will be very pleased to have your company, I'm sure." Cosette smiled, and then turned to Musichetta and Éponine with a more relaxed stature. "Well, shall we?"

"Well, we shouldn't have any problems, then. Please be back before 4 o'clock." Enjolras responded, and looked to the three girls in turn, before nodding and walking off to join the other men at the table, who were still working out the kinks in their plan.

"Let's go!" Cosette almost squealed, and Musichetta grinned, and Éponine dreaded what was about to come.

* * *

In all honesty, Éponine wasn't all that concerned with the shopping bit; it was the hanging out with Cosette and this new woman, Musichetta, that frightened her; she barely knew either of the girls, and she was a bit concerned that the two beautiful women would talk to each other and only consult Éponine if they needed a second opinion on a dress they would try on. She wouldn't be surprised if she was excluded, since Éponine had been quite ignored most of her childhood ever since Cosette left.

That was another thing Éponine was concerned about; did Cosette remember how horribly Éponine had treated her? She prayed that Cosette didn't remember, since she didn't want the beautiful lark to think badly of her. Even though Éponine should have hated Cosette for 'stealing' Marius, she couldn't find it in her to feel any strong bitter feelings towards the blonde, seeing as how she had treated her in the past probably excused the brunette from hating her. In fact, Éponine was trying very hard to be as kind as possible (and ladylike as possible) around her and Musichetta, since she suspected both of them came from families with money, and Éponine didn't want to be embarrassed.

"Have you ever gotten your hair done, Éponine?" Musichetta asked, snapping the brunette out of her train of thoughts.

"Oh, no, I've never had the time." She responded, and Cosette gasped.

"Golly! Well, I sure know where we're going first! The salon!" She squealed again, and Éponine smiled; even though Cosette wasn't really her idea of a friend, the girl certainly was charismatic.

"I'm not sure I want my hair cut, though." Éponine cautioned. She remembered the first time she met Les Amis, and how Marius had noticed her long hair; that prompted her to be less insecure about her hair length, and she had been wearing it down more often.

"But it would look simply adorable." Musichetta argued, as the three girls jogged across the street, avoiding honking cars. "And we can finger curl it! Oh, the possibilities!"

"Can't we just put it up?" Éponine asked, rubbing the side of her arm. She really didn't want her hair cut, and Musichetta saying that she would look better with it short made her feel a bit more insecure.

"It looks better long, Musichetta; I don't know what you're talking about! I saw in a magazine, this model had an adorable hairdo with the sides of her hair curled and the long part put into this sort of tucked-in bun, so it gave the illusion that it was short, but it was still quite long! Perhaps we could do that, Éponine?" Cosette suggested, smiling kindly.

Éponine smiled back. "Yes, I'd like that."

Musichetta shrugged. "Alright, just be sure you're specific. Will you be able to pay for your hair, Éponine?" She asked as she opened the door to the salon.

"Uh-" Éponine began, once again beginning to feel insecure.

"I'm covering all of Éponine's expenses! It's only polite, after all." Cosette saved Éponine once again, and she was incredibly grateful. The blonde turned to the counter, where a woman was sitting. "Hello, yes, may we make a reservation? 2pm, please. Three chairs." Cosette said expertly, as if she had done this thousands of times (which she probably had) and the woman proceeded to scribble something down on a paper.

"If you don't arrive on time, you will lose your reservation." The saleswoman cautioned.

"Of course, we'll be here!" Cosette assured, and Éponine looked to her with a confused look. "Well, if we get our hair done before we get our dresses, how are we supposed to try on dresses while running the risk of ruining our hairdos?"

"Oh. Yes, of course." Éponine smiled; she was so new to this shopping etiquette, and Musichetta waited while still holding the door open. She noticed the salon was quite busy, and it was only 11 am. "Are you sure we'll have three chairs open for us by 2?"

"Of course, you underestimate the powers of Cosette." Musichetta grinned, and the three giggled.

"Let's go find some dresses!" Cosette gave a little hop-skip, and Éponine smiled, feeling much more relaxed, now that she found that her worries were all for naught.

* * *

"Hmmm… I liked the beige one better." Musichetta put her finger to her chin, and Éponine stared curiously to Cosette, who was currently standing in front of them in a green sparkly flapper dress. The three girls had made their way to a very expensive dress shop, and Éponine had followed the two girls around while they navigated the rows and rows of clothes expertly; the brunette didn't know how to really shop for what looked good on her, since she really only had one or two dresses. So, Musichetta and Cosette helped her find clothes that would look good on her; once they had all stocked up on enough things to try on, they all decided to try things on and show the others' for opinion. Cosette was to go first, and then Éponine, and then Musichetta. This was Cosette's last dress, and Musichetta always had some sort of intelligent insight to give about whatever she wore, while Éponine thought she looked amazing in any one of the dresses.

"Really? I thought this suited my form better…" Cosette replied thoughtfully. "What do you think?" She looked to Éponine, and once again, Éponine didn't know what to say.

"Erm… I think you look stunning in both, but I really think that if you wore a soft pink, you would look better." She responded, hoping that she had used the right color phrases; she had seen a beautiful pink color in the shop window on their way in and it was called soft pink, so Éponine figured that she would try to use it at some point today to make it seem like she knew at least a little bit about fashion.

"Oh, you're right! I did see a very cute one in that color on our way in… Sit tight, I'll be back!" Musichetta exclaimed, getting up and rushing off to find a suitable dress for Cosette.

"Éponine, why don't you go try on the beige one I picked out? I think you'd look darling in it." Cosette smiled, pulling the dress out from her dressing room and held it out for Éponine to take.

"Are you sure?" Éponine asked, taking the expensive dress gingerly.

"Of course! I don't look very good in it, anyways." Cosette replied, and Éponine smiled, stepping into a dressing room.

She soon changed into the dress and stepped out. The dress hung on her like a burlap sack, and Éponine found it to be quite itchy, though she didn't raise those concerns with the blonde in front of her. Cosette put her finger to her chin thoughtfully, looking her over. "You know, that dress just simply doesn't look good on anyone. Éponine, you have such a wonderfully tiny waist! We should find a fitted bodice dress to accentuate it… Maybe in red?" Without waiting for a reply, Cosette scurried off, still in the green flapper dress, leaving Éponine alone.

She looked around the expensive store. The ceiling was quite high, dotted with a few chandeliers here and there; there was very nice carpet underneath her feet that felt softer than any pillow she'd ever touched, and Éponine had never seen so many beautiful articles of clothing in one place before. It was quite exciting, and she couldn't help the smile that spread over her face. Who would have thought that a lowly street urchin such as herself would ever been in such a grand place as this? And that night, she was to be in an even fancier place! Her smile grew wider and her cheeks warmed with excitement.

"Ah! This one! Try this on, Éponine!" Cosette came back, holding a lovely red dress and a headband with a red feather. "I found this accessory; I thought it would look darling with your hair done!"

"Oh, thank you!" Éponine couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice as she took the dress and disappeared into the dressing room. Once the dress was on, she couldn't bear to look at herself in the mirror for fear of hating what she saw. So, Éponine covered her eyes and walked out cautiously, to where Musichetta and Cosette were waiting. Slowly, she opened her eyes to see her friend's reactions.

Much to her surprise, their mouths were open.

"…Éponine, I do believe we've found your dress." Musichetta beamed.

"Look in the mirror!" Cosette squealed.

Éponine spun around, and her mouth also went agape.

The dress was simply gorgeous; the hemline was a red rayon slip, and the red bodice fitted ever so nicely to her body, accentuating her waist and hips. A small sparkled band around the lower part of her waist separated the bodice from the skirt, which was a flounced handkerchief hem skirt that went down to just above her knees. She covered her mouth in excitement, and turned around to the two girls, and let out an excited squeal; Éponine couldn't help herself.

This was the first time she had ever felt truly beautiful, and it was such an amazing feeling.

* * *

Soon enough, after much searching and different combinations of accessories and shoes, the three girls found precisely the right dresses for their night out:

Cosette was to be dressed in a soft pink flapper dress with a fitted bodice and sleeves that went down just above her elbows; when she said it was missing something, she had found a lovely black satin ribbon and tied it around her waist in a fashionable bow. As an accessory, the blonde was able to find a satin black headband and shiny black shoes to put the whole thing together; after much persuasion from Musichetta, Cosette gave in and also bought a pearl bracelet and necklace. ("But trampy girls wear pearls, Musichetta!" Cosette had protested. "What does that say about me, then?" Musichetta had answered, which made the blonde shut up.)

Musichetta, after trying on the dark green flapper dress that didn't work for Cosette, decided that green was most definitely her color since Bahorel loved yellow but Joly adored blue. She figured that a mix of the two colors would satisfy her partners and silence any playful arguments they might make. The dress was very sparkly and had staggered rows of fringe all over the dress, which, as Musichetta put, "accentuates my ladies; if ya got it, flaunt it! That's my motto!" She had found a headband similar to Éponine's, but it was in a dark green much like her dress with a lighter green of a feather and a shorter darker green one. The headband fit across her head perfectly, and didn't irritate her forehead as she had thought it would. Musichetta didn't feel that pearls were necessary for her dress, so Cosette was the only one adorned in the "trampy" jewelry.

Finally, Éponine's accessories were simple but effective; she and Musichetta had found a diamond choker necklace, and figured it would be perfect for her since her dress had very little sparkle in normal lighting; her shoes were a nude color, since Éponine decided she didn't want to look too flashy.

After they all bought their clothes, the three rushed to the salon; they just made it there before their reservation had been given away, since they had spent so much time shopping.

First, Cosette insisted they all get manicures.

"So, how're things with you and Marius?" Musichetta asked in a lilting tone, a sly smile spreading across her face.

Éponine tried not to stiffen, but she couldn't help the stone that dropped in her stomach. This was the one bit of conversation she had been trying to avoid this entire time, but she should have known that it was bound to come up at some point.

"Oh," Cosette giggled, biting her lip. "Well… Yesterday was our first kiss!" She confessed, and Musichetta grinned. Éponine frowned.

"Ah, I see… Was he a good kisser?"

"Musichetta!" Cosette gasped, and Éponine couldn't help but snicker.

"Well, _was _he?" Éponine asked, quite enjoying how flustered Cosette got; she was so fun to mess with and it distracted her from Marius. (Plus, she _did_ want to know if he was a good kisser.)

"He…" Cosette was blushing, her face turning redder and redder. "Well, of course he was! I just don't understand why you nosey chicks had to know." She bit the inside of her cheek, and Éponine and Musichetta busted up laughing. "Well, what about you and Joly and Bahorel?" Cosette challenged Musichetta; which was, essentially, a bad idea.

"Oh, my, where do I start?" Musichetta replied, sighing wistfully. "Hmmm… Well, last night we had a particularly fun idea involving whipped cream and lots of licking-"

"Gah!" Cosette exclaimed, shaking her head and closing her eyes. But she couldn't help herself; the blonde was laughing with both Éponine and Musichetta, the latter of whom was still trying to explain to Cosette about her and Joly's and Bahorel's "fun idea" they had come up with last night through bouts of laughter since she knew it got to Cosette.

"No, no, enough! Forget I asked!" Cosette laughed.

"Oh, alright." Musichetta sighed heavily, and after a moment of silence, looked to Éponine with a smirk. "How about you, Éponine?"

"What _about_ me?" The brunette asked cautiously.

"What about you and Enjolras! The marble statue, the beautiful man who could be swayed by no woman!" Cosette explained with a bright smile. "That is, until you came along!" She giggled with Musichetta.

Éponine simply laughed it off; these two were so silly! "No, no, we're only friends. In fact, I think Enjolras is starting to become my teacher, really. He's taught me so much about history, and literature, and now I think he might even want to teach me to play the piano." She smiled.

"Ooh, a relationship between a student and a teacher… How kinky." Musichetta grinned. The ladies working on their hands told them to stand and move to the salon chairs in front of the mirrors so that they may begin to work on their hair.

Once all three of them were situated, Éponine shook her head while rubbing her incredibly soft hands; they had never felt like this before! "No! There's nothing between us; he's far too concerned with his cause, he's told me. And instead of falling for him, which would be a waste of time, I've opted to learn from him. He's really quite sweet once you get past his hard exterior."

"Eponine, please! When you walked into the speakeasy, Enjolras lit right up. I don't believe I've ever seen him so happy." Musichetta smiled knowingly.

"Well, maybe he was just happy to see me because-" Éponine began, but she stopped herself.

"Because why?" Cosette prompted.

"Because you and Marius were extremely gooey and lovey today and Enjolras simply detests that." Musichetta finished for Éponine with a grin.

"Oh, I hope we didn't upset him!" Cosette exclaimed, suddenly worried and concerned. "I just get so lost when I'm around Marius, it's like the only person in the world is him…"

"Yes, I've noticed." Éponine sighed to herself. She wished Cosette would stop bringing Marius up; it dampened her mood.

In an hour or two, their hair was finished and Éponine once again felt incredibly beautiful.

'_I could get used to this feeling,' _she mused as she stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was put up in a tucked in bun, and the stray hairs on the sides of her face were curled and stuck to the sides of her face. The three girls asked to use the salon's bathrooms, and once they were given permission, they all rushed in to change into their new dresses.

Once Éponine saw herself, in her beautiful dress and beautiful hairdo, she almost cried. She was simply overwhelmed; she had never ever thought in a million years that she would look as beautiful as this. Her dress was so fancy, and she had never worn anything this grand; her hair looked just like the pictures in the magazines she had snuck a glance at occasionally, when her mother wasn't looking. Mind you, Éponine still didn't believe she looked as lovely as Cosette or Musichetta, who were now applying their makeup, but she felt beautiful nonetheless.

"Don't you have makeup?" Musichetta asked, to which Éponine shook her head.

"Oh, my! Come over here, Éponine, we have the same skin tone; I'll help you out." Cosette exclaimed, pulling Éponine over to her.

"Oh, this isn't necessary." Éponine insisted, but Cosette waved away her protests.

"Be still! I'll have you looking prettier than a diamond freshly cut!" Cosette promised, and set to work on the brunette's face.

After what seemed like an eternity of brushes buffering her face and weird pencils on her eyelids, Éponine was finally permitted to open her eyes. She gaped; her eyes were lined ever so slightly to make her normally boring brown eyes pop. Her cheeks were dusted with a very light tint of pink, just enough to make her skin look almost as flawless as Cosette's or Musichetta's.

"I have the perfect thing to make this better!" Musichetta exclaimed after staring at Éponine's reflection thoughtfully. She spun around to her makeup bag and pulled out a lip stick. "Come here, you."

"Make your mouth an o, like this." Cosette demonstrated, opening her mouth and making her lips stick out. Éponine laughed, and Musichetta giggled.

"I can't look like that with _you_ looking like that!" Éponine chuckled, and Cosette smiled.

"Just try, come on!" She exclaimed. Éponine tried, but before Musichetta could touch her lips with the red lipstick, she busted up laughing again.

"I blame you, Cosette!" Musichetta laughed, and grabbed Éponine's face, squishing her lips together. "Alright, stay still or we're gonna have to do this the hard way."

Éponine finally calmed down, and Musichetta applied the lipstick with expertise. "There! You look positively stunning, doll."

Indeed, Éponine agreed with Musichetta. She smiled to herself in the mirror; she almost didn't recognize the beautiful girl looking back at her; Éponine had to keep on reminding herself that this was real, that she was going to attend a night club party with a bunch of people with money, and not to scam them.

Oh… Actually, Éponine still needed to speak with her parents about that. She gulped, visibly looking worried. What if her father hit her after he found out that she had made different plans? Éponine didn't want her lovely makeup to be ruined; after all, Enjolras still hadn't see her—

"Are you alright, Éponine?" Musichetta asked, putting all of her makeup away. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

"Oh. Yes, I'm fine. I've just-"

"Golly! Look at the time! We have to go, it's 3:45!" Cosette exclaimed, grabbing her things and rushing out the door, with Musichetta and Éponine hot on her heels.

* * *

"The sheriffs will be there tonight, as well as our governor, and their families. We are all aware of how exactly to extract the information?" Enjolras asked, glaring at Grantaire, who was nursing a whiskey.

"Yes, we make small talk and get the information that way." Courfeyrac said, exasperated. They had gone over this a million times, and he was beginning to hope that the three girls would get back soon so that Enjolras would be distracted and preach his ideas to Éponine.

"And if that doesn't work?" Enjolras prompted.

"We woo their daughters and get them to tell us through our gentlemanly charms." Grantaire joked, receiving a laugh from the other men.

"This is serious, Grantaire." Enjolras huffed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Jesus, it was only 3 pm. He glanced at his watch; the ladies needed to be back soon if he was to explain the plan efficiently. He didn't worry about Éponine, it was Musichetta and Cosette; what if they weren't as witty as his friend?

"I'm kidding, mon ami. If that doesn't work, we'll pose as the extra cops sent in to keep the citizens in check and find out if any speakeasies are nearby." Grantaire said tiredly; they had gone over this plenty, and the men still needed to put on their suits.

"Precisely. Now, who are the-" Enjolras began, but was interrupted by Marius.

"Cosette!" He exclaimed, and all of the men whirled around; thank God, if Cosette was back, then Musichetta and Éponine were back!

"Marius!" Cosette smiled, leaping into her love's arms, pressing her lips to his passionately. Enjolras rolled his eyes as the two clung to each other. Before Grantaire had the chance to whistle, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Where are Musichetta and Éponine?" Enjolras asked seriously, his expression marble and focused.

Cosette giggled, Marius' arm still around her waist, and licked her puffed lips. "Oh, Musichetta is-"

"Joly! Bahorel!" The caramel-skinned beauty burst into the bar, waltzing to her men happily. The two looked simply elated to see her; especially in a dress as sexy as that. Enjolras decided not to watch their kissing exchange, as the three's relationship confused him to no end.

"Enjolras, I have to talk to you." Éponine finally entered the bar, walking swiftly to Enjolras without paying any mind to Marius and Cosette for the first time, he noticed.

He also noticed her dress. And her necklace, and her hair and her eyes. And her lips. His mouth opened ever so slightly, though his brow was still furrowed. He had never seen her like this; dressed like the girls he had grown up with, dressed in such a fancy and—form-fitting dress. Éponine's waist was so petite and perfect on her, he felt as if he had never truly seen it before. This was a completely different girl in front of him; but it was the same Éponine, with the same expression he wore: all business, nothing funny. He was quite relieved that his friend was taking this as seriously as he was, but something else about her expression unsettled him.

She looked—was that fear? No, it couldn't possibly be; Éponine was the strongest and most intelligent girl Enjolras had ever had the pleasure to meet. How could she be scared?

"Um, listen." Éponine began, and Enjolras forced himself to stop noticing her. "I…" Could she really tell Enjolras what she needed to say? Could she really explain her need to leave for an hour or so and explain to her parents about everything that had happened? "I need to talk to my parents. About, uh, about this whole… ordeal. You see,-"

"They don't trust you going to a night club with a bunch of men." Enjolras finished for her, and felt pleased with himself when Éponine smiled a little.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that." She sighed. "So, I'll be gone for a while, just to explain to them about this whole thing."

"No, I'll come with you." Enjolras decided, grabbing his red coat and slipping it on.

"Er, really? I can handle them, they're just my parents." Éponine said uncertainly, a bit confused as to why Enjolras would suddenly go with her to her home.

"Yes, I have no doubt in my mind that you can. However, I think their minds would be more at rest if they met who you were going to the club with." He stated, and began to walk towards the door before Éponine could protest.

"A-are you sure? It's not, uh…" She gulped. "It's not in the best of neighborhoods, just to warn you."

"That doesn't matter. Remember, I do not judge those with less 'power', as society defines it. If you're such a pleasure to be around, I'm sure your family will be no different."

"Oh, well, ahah, you're wrong…" Éponine muttered, walking out of the bar with Enjolras silently.

* * *

**A/N: Sooo sorry for not updating sooner! I've been slammed with homework lately, but this week, luckily I have testing so woohoo no homework! Anyways, I'll probably update again tomorrow or Wednesday, so yay. Hope you enjoyed! xx**


	5. Stressful Beginnings

**A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and favs and follows! This chapter was a little difficult to write, since my inspiration is waning. Sorry, I'll try to update on time more often! Anyhow, here's chapter 5!**

* * *

The walk to Éponine's home was a bit, well, awkward. In Éponine's opinion, anyway; Enjolras seemed to quite enjoy the silence, and the brunette noticed that even though the two were only walking to her home and he wasn't in a sharp suit, the golden-haired man still looked professional. She noticed he walked with a very strong and purposeful stride, as if he always had a reason to be walking wherever he was walking, and that the reason was very important. She noticed how, every once in a while, she had to jog a little to keep up with his quick strides.

When Enjolras turned back to Éponine, she stopped noticing him, but she realized that a small smile was on her lips from watching him walk. Why was that? His strides weren't all that interesting; she decided it was just because she was amused that he took everything so seriously, even something as silly as walking with Éponine to her home to meet her parents.

"Keep up, I'm a little lost now." He said, and Éponine smirked, jogging up next to his side. She noticed that he slowed down a bit so that it was easier for her to keep up with him; that was nice. Marius usually preferred her to walk behind him or in front of him, for reasons she still didn't know or question.

"Of course, mon ami. My home is quite tricky to get to; only the most experienced street dwellers can find their way there." She said mysteriously, and caught the faintest smile about to appear on Enjolras' lips, which gave her a sense of accomplishment. He didn't smile often, but when he did, Éponine always silently praised herself.

A few blocks later, Éponine and Enjolras arrived at their destination. Only then did she feel self-conscious; she looked like 'one of the riches', and she wasn't sure her mother would recognize her. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Her bright red dress contrasted with the dreary look of her neighborhood, and she noticed that Enjolras stood a little straighter—if that was even possible—when her father and his gang came into view.

Monsieur Thénardier hobbled over, pretending to cough something terrible. "Please, monsieur. Our child is starving, my wife has come down with the-"

"Papa, it's me." Éponine said quietly, quite ashamed that Enjolras had to be exposed to her foolish, selfish father. When Thénardier looked to Éponine with a blank expression, she felt even more ashamed and embarrassed. "Éponine."

"Ah! Éponine! What the hell are you doin' in that?" He asked, making a face at her clothing.

She narrowed her eyes; no, after how good she felt about herself, she was _not _about to let her father dampen her confidence. "I am in party attire. Get maman, please."

Thénardier rolled his eyes, "This better be good," He grumbled, and stalked inside the house.

The two waited outside, both a bit awkward; Enjolras obviously had questions, but he could sense that Éponine was embarrassed enough as it was and he didn't want to burden her. So, he did the only thing he had in mind at the moment, and cleared his throat.

"I think you look lovely."

Éponine looked up to him, a little surprised but relieved that he had said something that had nothing to do with her father. "Thank you. Cosette and Musichetta say red is my color; I'm still not sure what that means, but I suppose it's good." She smiled, and Enjolras gave a small smile in return.

"Well, I'm not sure what that means either, so you're not alone. Regardless, red does look good on you." He answered, which made Éponine smile wider. "It's my favorite color." He wasn't sure why he added the last part, but it just seemed right; and he enjoyed seeing his friend this happy, especially since she was away from Marius. Enjolras had never seen her smile this wide around Pontmercy before, but it was nice to see genuine happiness from her.

"Éponine, my, my, look what you've snagged!" A loud voice called, causing both Éponine and Enjolras to look to the owner of the voice; Montparnasse. Éponine audibly groaned, and even though Enjolras didn't know the man, he understood why. He was obviously intoxicated, and was currently sauntering over to the two. "Got yerself a rich one, eh? Not bad lookin', either. He's got such pretty hair, don't he!" Montparnasse made his voice go high, imitating a love-struck girl and pretended to faint.

Enjolras set his jaw; more annoyed than put off, really. Before he could eloquently state how much he disliked this man's presence, Éponine spoke.

"Oh, beat it, Montparnasse. You're drunk and you have to be sober enough for the club, lest you be caught by the authorities." She retorted, crossing her arms.

Enjolras looked to her, a bit surprised; how was this drunk idiot going to make it into the Chez Paree? And she took on a different stance when dealing with this Montparnasse fellow; he had never seen her act this snarky previously. Before he had a chance to ask her, though, the Thénardier's came out of their home.

"Éponine, my God, how'd you manage to steal such a thing? And clean up like that?" Madame Thénardier asked, quite impressed with her daughter for once. She planted her hands on her hips and jerked her chin to Enjolras. "And who's this bloke?"

"Maman, papa, this is who I'm going to the Chez Paree with. I'm sure I'll see you there, but I will be entering and leaving with him." Éponine raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes in a 'hint, hint, hint!' kind of way, since she didn't want to go right out and say that he was her way in to the club; she had been embarrassed enough already by Montparnasse and her father.

"Ohhhhh…." Madame Thénardier said, picking up on her daughter's hints. Éponine smiled, relieved that her mother understood. Her father didn't, obviously, but her mother would explain to him later. "May I speak with you for a moment before you go?" She asked sweetly, much to Éponine's surprise; her mother was very rarely nice to her, unless she wanted something dearly. Cautiously, the brunette walked over to her mother, who whispered in her ear, "Make sure you get money tonight to cover the whole week. You didn't bring anything these whole five days, and we need food and tobacco."

Éponine sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. She just couldn't catch a break, could she? "Yes, mother." She breathed back, and then moved back to Enjolras with a smile. "Well, if that's it, we'll be going now. Thank, you, maman!" Éponine announced sweetly, grabbing Enjolras' arm and hurried out of her neighborhood, praying that he didn't judge her too harshly.

* * *

Surprisingly, Enjolras didn't ask Éponine about her family, despite his desperate curiosity. No, he kept quiet and walked in time with Éponine back to the speakeasy, and the two made it back in no time.

"Enjolras, where the hell have you been? Get changed, you marble man!" Grantaire exclaimed as soon as the two entered the speakeasy, tossing a bag with a suit in it to Enjolras as soon as the two walked into the room. "Éponine! Darling, I didn't get a chance to compliment you since this one stole you away. Might I just say you look quite beautiful, doll." He grinned, kind of pushing Enjolras away from the brunette, and kissed her hand. "I'd venture to say you look even more beautiful than Cosette," He murmured, "but I don't think we'd hear the end of it from Marius."

Éponine giggled along with Grantaire, while Enjolras rolled his eyes and strode off to the bathrooms. "So, ah… I forgot to ask Enjolras, but what's the plan?"

"How do you know we have a plan? How do you know this isn't just some fun night out?" Courfeyrac asked mysteriously, raising an eyebrow.

Éponine smiled. "Because I know Enjolras far too well, and he wouldn't wanna go out and paint the town if it weren't for," She looked into the distance dramatically, "_the cause." _

Grantaire and Courfeyrac laughed along with Éponine, "You're cleverer than we thought, Éponine. Enjolras' plan is to infiltrate the party, since all the important government officials will be there-"

"And their daughters." Grantaire interrupted Courfeyrac's explanation, raising his eyebrows and smiling, the other man laughing.

"Yes, and their daughters—can't wait for that bit. But our main purpose is to find out if they know about this speakeasy in particular, or any other speakeasies nearby. And, more importantly, we need to find out if they know about our recent plans of an uprising."

"If they find out about that, our entire operation is down the drain." Éponine said, and even more weight was pressing itself upon her shoulders; she needed to help them find out this information, _and _make sure they didn't get robbed by her family, _and _earn enough money for the week by the end of the night, lest she risk a beating?

"_Our_ operation? My, my, Éponine, I didn't think you'd want to be involved in our revolutionary shenanigans." Courfeyrac grinned along with Grantaire; they both seemed quite pleased that Éponine was willing to help them out in their little expedition.

"Well, I can't very well let you idiots do this all on your own, now can I? You'd muck it up somehow." She beamed, and laughed along with the two men.

"Where's Enjolras? We need to sort through the whole plan with you three before we go, and I'm sure Enjolras would love to explain it." Bahorel announced, receiving a chorus of pleasant laughter from the other men and women.

"I'll go check for him; he's probably stuck in the thought of some sort of philosophical bit he conjured up." Éponine smiled, and turned to the bathrooms, walking over to the male side. She gently knocked on the door, and Enjolras muttered her consent to come in. When she walked in, the golden-haired man was irritably staring at himself in the mirror, his fingers fumbling at his tie.

"This damn tie won't tie right…!" He muttered, and quickly realized that a woman was in his presence. "Apologies, mademoiselle, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry, monsieur, I've heard much worse from men richer than you." Éponine stifled a laugh, and entered the bathroom, joining him by the mirror and staring at herself thoughtfully. She was still rather impressed with her appearance, and remembered how Enjolras had complimented her earlier. When the marble man still couldn't seem to get it right, she grinned widely. "Need a little help?"

Enjolras sighed. "Yes, please." He murmured, seeming to be quite defeated. Éponine turned him to face her, and set to work on tying him a proper tie. She hadn't realized it before, but now that he was this close, she noticed that his eyes were slightly drooping, yet still had an alert light in them. His mouth was set in a seemingly permanent, stressed frown. She felt a bit selfish for feeling so stressed, when Enjolras was the one with the majority of things to worry about; yet, he was handling it do well. Éponine came to find that this was yet another thing she admired about him; how he was able to keep a cool head and composed stature in stressful situations.

"Enjolras, are you worried about tonight?" She asked without warning.

He seemed startled, that she had picked up on his worried thoughts. "I suppose." Enjolras answered after a pause. "I just hope I don't fail them."

Both Éponine and Enjolras were surprised by his confession. The two had never really discussed feelings between each other, it was always facts and playful teasing. Perhaps this was a new step in their friendship; after all, Éponine had discussed her feelings about various things with Cosette and Musichetta, so she figured that Enjolras trusted her enough to speak with her about his emotions.

"I think it's silly that you have even the slightest idea that you will." Éponine responded without missing a beat; if Enjolras wished to speak about things other than when the French Revolution began, or what time period a certain piece of music was composed, then she would listen to him and help him to the best of her ability, because that's what friends are for. "You have much more influence than you believe, monsieur; and even though Les Amis joke around and you don't think they take it as seriously as you do, I'm afraid to say that you're wrong. All they were talking about in there was what kinds of things they were going to say to extract information from the public officials." She left out the part with Courfeyrac and Grantaire planning on wooing their daughters, "You may not have done a thing like this before, what with lying to extract information and all, but you've managed to inspire a group of people to follow in your footsteps and help you along the way. So actually, it's a bit impossible for you to fail them since you've already succeeded."

Enjolras blinked, looking down at Éponine in a sort of amazement. He had seen her be philosophical, funny, and flirty; but he had never seen her like this. She was so sure of herself, and somehow sparked a sort of motivation in him that others had never been able to do; he usually found his own inspiration and motivation. A very small smile found its way on his lips, and he couldn't help but notice that Éponine's lips were pulled in a thin line in concentration due to the fact that she was finishing his tie. In one swift motion, she tightened it properly and stepped back, admiring her handiwork.

"There. Now you look like a proper gentleman." She grinned playfully, and once again felt that sense of accomplishment when she noticed that Enjolras was smiling. "Come, you still need to explain the plan to Musichetta, Cosette and I." Even though Courfeyrac and Grantaire had told her a simplified version of what the group was to be doing tonight, she still wanted to hear Enjolras announce it like he always did; with a business-like approach, yet a certain excitement and rebelliousness that only he could convey.

"Yes." Enjolras nodded. "Thank you, Éponine." He held the door open for her; something only Marius used to do, and the brunette couldn't help but smile gratefully.

"You're welcome, monsieur." She answered, and the two made their way to the group, where Enjolras proceeded to tell the women of the plan.

* * *

Éponine took another deep breath. The car bounced uncomfortably, and she gripped the seat with her eyes closed. She had never, ever been in a car before, let alone with 3 other men. Cosette and Marius obviously traveled together, sharing a car with Joly and Musichetta; despite Bahorel's complaints, he opted to travel with Combeferre, while Éponine took a car with Enjolras, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire. Jehan, Feuilly, and Bossuet took the last car, and off they went to the Chez Paree.

"Are you alright, doll?" Grantaire asked, smiling kindly when Éponine opened her eyes. "It's only a car, and it's a Ford, so you have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried." Éponine snapped. She bit the inside of her cheek, scolding herself for being so short. "Sorry, I'm just… overwhelmed."

Overwhelmed was an understatement. She had to act perfectly fine at this nightclub, filled with public officials who would arrest her without a second glance if they knew of the crimes she'd participated in, and she would also have to find a way to slip away from the group long enough to let her family in without being noticed by anyone. Plus, she had to find a way to pickpocket enough money for her week, which would not be easy since she suspected Enjolras would want her by his side so that he could relay information he collected to her so that he wouldn't forget it.

"Don't worry, we'll be right with you the whole night." Courfeyrac assured, and Éponine tried to smile. _'That's exactly what I don't want you to be; right next to me!' _She thought, exasperated.

"Thank you." She looked out the small window, gulping nervously while Enjolras, Grantaire, and Courfeyrac talked. Tonight was going to be a long night…

"We're here." Enjolras announced, and Éponine took yet another deep and shaky breath. Grantaire and Courfeyrac exited the car, but Enjolras paused and looked at Éponine seriously. "Are you sure you're going to be able to handle this? If you're too nervous, I can tell the driver to take you back home."

"No!" Éponine exclaimed. Home was the last place she wanted to be. In all honesty, she wanted to be back at that piano with her marble statue playing a song she barely recognized while she drifted off to sleep on his red coat. He wasn't wearing the red coat tonight, she noticed; but he was wearing a red cloth tucked in the breast pocket of his suit. "No, I'm fine. Really." She plastered on a smile, and exited the car with him soon after. Although, Éponine could still feel his gaze on her as the others came up and joined them, while a line started to form out of the Chez Paree.

"There's D.W. Griffeth!" Musichetta whispered excitedly, and Cosette spun around, surprised and excited.

"Oh, my! Enjolras, you never said movie directors were going to be here!" She giggled, but Enjolras didn't return her smile.

"I wasn't aware. Keep your eyes peeled for public officials, this is important." He sighed, his eyes scanning the crowd around them.

"There's Charles Lindbergh," Bossuet rolled his eyes. "Bet he's gonna get all the ladies tonight."

"Pilots are always big-shots." Grantaire sighed. "But that won't stop me, I have twice the charm as that puffed up fish."

The group laughed, but Éponine and Enjolras were stuck in their own little worlds. Éponine was worried about literally everything, while Enjolras was still scanning the crowd for political figures.

"Al Smith's daughter looks quite stunning in that partially see-through dress, I must say." Courfeyrac commented, which caused Enjolras to look around wildly for Smith.

"Where is he?" He asked, and Courfeyrac pointed to a balding man with a woman around his age, and two other women who must have been his daughters; both were equally beautiful, although one of them seemed more conscious of their beauty than the other, what with her see through dress and all.

"Let's hope that Hoover isn't here." Enjolras sighed, referring to how Hoover had trumped Smith in a recent election. He silently hoped that Éponine would ask him about it, but she seemed distracted, and he didn't think she heard him. Suffice it to say, that made him a bit disappointed.

While Les Amis pointed out various famous people, the sky got steadily darker and the air got steadily colder. The club was very close to officially opening, and they would be inside soon enough, but that didn't stop everyone from complaining.

"Golly, I wasn't counting on it being this cold!" Cosette exclaimed, and Marius graciously draped his jacket over her a moment later. The two kissed lovingly, and Éponine made a face while holding back her shivers. Unlike the pampered blonde, Éponine was quite used to the cold and knew how to deal with it. She rubbed her arms, and stared at a point on the sidewalk while blurring her vision. She wasn't sure how, but doing that somehow always warmed her up. Although, it got even colder and Éponine wasn't in her usual dress; she was in a fancy, thin-clothed flapper dress and therefor, she couldn't control her shivers. Musichetta was warmed by Bahorel and Joly, Marius and Cosette pressed together, and Éponine just stood there while trying not to look like she needed anyone's coat. Just when she thought she was literally about to freeze on the spot, the doors to the Chez Paree opened.

The whole crowd cheered, and everyone rushed in, the lights and upbeat jazz music beckoning the rich and well-dressed.

* * *

**A/N: I am sooooo sorry for not updating when I said I would. I just got into a bit of writers' block, and this is the best I could do, so it's filler-y, and I have plenty of ideas for the next chapter but I can't seem to put it down on paper properly! If any of you have ideas, let me know because I love input from my readers :D**


	6. This Party Ain't Half Bad!

**A/N: Okay, finally something not filler! I am soooo sorry for not updating sooner! Thanks so much for all the reviews and follows and favs! I really do appreciate it, so without further ado, here's chapter 6!**

* * *

The music was loud and upbeat and inviting, the food was simply delectable, her friends were having a lovely time, but Éponine couldn't calm down. Her heart was racing, and she kept looking everywhere to make sure that she wasn't late in letting her family in. They had told her to let them in an hour after the club opened, but she didn't want to ask anyone what time it was for fear of them suspecting her. She scolded herself for acting like such a coward, but she really didn't want her newfound friends to see her incredibly screwed up family; it would definitely ruin her. And Enjolras had already seen who she was related to, so she was making a point of avoiding him tonight.

"Come on, Éponine, let's dance!" Cosette and Musichetta yelled, running onto the dance floor while dragging Éponine with them.

"Oh, but I can't dance; I never learned!" Éponine exclaimed; she didn't want to embarrass herself, and she needed to focus!

"Pish posh, dancing isn't something that can be taught; it comes from the soul!" Musichetta responded with a wide smile. Éponine began to dance uncertainly, and eventually Cosette joined her in a simple dance move that they repeated throughout the song.

"See, you're better than you think!" The blonde encouraged. "When a slow song comes up, maybe we can force Enjolras to dance with you! Even if he's here on business, he still needs to treat himself to blend in better."

"Yeah, and while we're at it, we can spike his drink to make him more relaxed!" Musichetta added. It seemed that the two were attempting to make Éponine smile, so she did. Even if it wasn't genuine, the two girls seemed pleased that they had made their friend smile.

"I'm gonna go get some water." Éponine called over the strum of the music. It was just as well that she left the dance floor, since the song had ended and the crowd was applauding the band. She hurried over to her designated table, where she hoped that no one was waiting at. But of course, Enjolras, Combeferre, and Marius were speaking with each other and standing near the table. They all looked very focused on the men and women around them, so Éponine doubted they would pay attention to her, and luckily, a glass of cold water was waiting on the table, so she rushed over to it.

Enjolras noticed his friend, and was quite pleased to see her. In fact, he was hoping she would be able to go and get some information from a particularly interesting public official, but before he had a chance to say hello, Éponine grasped her glass of water and began drinking it with haste.

"Er… Éponine?" He asked uncertainly; Combeferre and Marius turned, staring at Éponine with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

The mademoiselle gulped the water down, and after several seconds, the glass was empty and she slammed it down on the table without meaning to. "What?" She asked irritably; once again, she didn't mean to be so short.

"Are you alright?" Combeferre voiced the question Enjolras and Marius thought. "You seem… a bit off."

"Yes, you seemed quite happy in the speakeasy." Marius pointed out kindly, but Éponine refused to feel happy that he had noticed her only when she was acting out of the ordinary, even if he did look dashing in his suit.

"That was before-!" She fired back, but didn't have the heart to continue; she couldn't tell her friends about her family problems, it wasn't that big of a deal anyway. Plus, she didn't want their pity.

Éponine could feel Enjolras' gaze on her, and she prayed he wasn't thinking what she thought he was thinking. The last thing she wanted was for her friend to start worrying about her at a party that was supposed to help him and his cause, not her and her feelings. In fact, she had been glancing at Marius quite often, without even realizing it. His suit made him look even more handsome, and Éponine's heart fluttered when she noticed he was looking at her with kindness; he hadn't looked at her for a while, and it was nice to know that he still noticed her.

Even so, he never looked at her like he looked at Cosette.

She turned to Enjolras. "What time is it?" She asked tersely, refusing to follow her train of thought about Marius and Cosette, since she knew it would only damper her already bad attitude.

He looked at the watch on his wrist. "9:10. Why?"

"I'll be right back." Éponine said quickly, and rushed off to the back of the club, avoiding swooning girls and pretentious boys. She was 10 minutes late! Her family would surely hurt her, that was certain. The brunette was almost to the spot that her family had pointed out to her a week earlier, where they had instructed what she was to do on the night the club opened. Before she reached the spot, however, a familiar face blocked her from it.

"Mademoiselle, the party is behind you." Javert said sternly.

She gulped, looking up into the older man's eyes. Éponine had escaped his grasp before, when Marius and Cosette had first laid eyes on each other. She doubted he recognized her, since she looked like a street urchin last he saw her. "I need to compose myself in a quiet place, monsieur." She lied, and turned on her tears. "A man I thought I loved has just proclaimed his love for another… Please, I just need to get away for a moment." If only she could.

Pity almost shone in his eyes. "You can compose yourself in the bathroom, my dear."

"All of my friends are in there, and if they see me then they'll make fun of me and the guy who likes me will try to make a move on me…!" Éponine continued in a hysteria, making her voice go higher and higher in an attempt to annoy him. Javert's mouth twitched, and he stepped aside.

"Be quick, mademoiselle." He muttered, and Éponine squeaked a thanks, hurrying off down a small hallway.

Sure enough, her father had his face pressed against the glass, looking for Éponine with a disgruntled expression. Once she came into sight, he backed away from the door while she opened it cautiously.

"Javert's standing watch down this hallway; you'll have to go through the kitchen." She whispered, and turned away from them without another thought.

"Éponine, wait!" Montparnasse hissed. She turned around, and was quite surprised when she saw that the man had shaved and was in a sharp suit; he did look rather attractive. However, that didn't mask his poor personality and Éponine's growing hatred for him. He winked, which made the brunette stiffen. "I'll be expecting a dance when I get me some money."

"Good luck with that." Éponine shot back, and spun on her heel and walked away with her head high. Even though she was extremely stressed, she was not about to let an idiot like Montparnasse get her down. Eventually, she made her way back to the table where her friends were all gathered at, probably regrouping after getting some new information from the crowd.

"…They don't know about our speakeasy, thank God, but I heard that they're going to be closing the Lucky Clover soon. If they found out about that place, we're not far behind; that's for sure." She overheard Combeferre profess.

"And what of the sheriff?" Enjolras prompted.

"Actually, he's a regular customer at the Lucky Clover and is unaware of it being shut down, so I suppose he's going to be arrested soon enough." Bahorel answered, and Enjolras almost grinned.

"Well done. Take a break, but if you are given the opportunity, don't hesitate to find anything else out." He ordered, and the entire group pretty much hurried away from the table as soon as he gave permission.

"Éponine! Our star of the night!" Grantaire exclaimed. "Come, a new song is about to start, and I have a feeling you and Enjolras will enjoy it." He winked, and Éponine rolled her eyes. Her family's presence certainly dampened her happy mood, and Grantaire trying to get her and Enjolras romantically involved didn't help. She had a job to do, and so did Enjolras.

Enjolras huffed at Grantaire. "I'm here for the cause, Grantaire. If you really wish to treat Éponine, dance with her yourself; but I must go and speak with Al Smith. Pardon." He said bluntly, walking past Éponine and Grantaire, a bit disgruntled.

Grantaire sighed. "Damn. I wish he would have danced with you, and then you two would fall in love and he'd be distracted enough to let us have more sleep rather than plan about revolution." He joked, but Éponine still didn't smile. "Say, doll, what's on your mind? You can tell me; I won't judge you or anything." He smiled kindly.

Éponine shook her head; couldn't Les Amis just leave her alone?! "I don't want to talk about it." She said curtly and spun around on her heel to look around the club, and to make sure none of Les Amis ran into her family. She made it pretty far away from Grantaire, when someone caught her attention.

"Éponine!" A female voice called.

"What?!" Éponine almost screeched from sheer frustration. She turned to find Azelma, in a pretty little flapper dress—probably stolen—sauntering over to her. "Oh, it's you." She sighed in relief; at least it wasn't her mother or Montparnasse.

Azelma giggled. "Don't I look simply dashing? I didn't even almost get caught when stealing it, too. Gavroche helped me, of course." She shrugged. "But how'd you manage to get this pretty thing? Who did you have to kill?" She smiled widely, and Éponine tried to smile back.

"I have my ways. Is Gavroche here?" The brunette asked, hoping her litter brother wasn't present; he would probably cause trouble or get _into _trouble.

"No, maman told him to stay home, but he argued a lot about it. At least we get to have all the fun!" Azelma smirked. "Oh, guess how much money I've stolen?"

"How much?" Éponine asked tiredly; her sister had reminded her once again that she needed to collect money for the entire week.

"10 dollars. That's so much, I think I'll buy myself some food or some new cigarettes. How much do you have?" Azelma responded, beaming proudly.

"Erm…" Éponine sighed. She didn't want to speak with her sister, not right now, since she needed to get some information for Enjolras before he asked her if anything was wrong. "I must go, my date is expecting me." She said hurriedly, and slipped back into the crowd before Azelma could pull her back into conversation. The brunette had made it half-way across the club, when Enjolras pulled her aside unexpectedly.

"I need some help with something." He said vaguely, which annoyed Éponine to no end.

"Care to be more specific?" She almost snapped, but Enjolras was too focused on staring at a man across the room to notice her sour mood.

"That man there has control over the entire police force. He's attended several political elections and debates, and knows as much about politics as Jehan knows about sonnets." He relayed to her, not once taking his eyes off the man.

"Alright, what's his name, then?" Éponine asked, forcing herself to put herself into a secure state of mind so that she could help her friend with such an important task.

"Andrew Mellon." Enjolras answered, and much to Éponine's surprise, he took his eyes off of the man to look at her with such intensity that she almost fell over. "Éponine, I hope you know that I trust you; and I hope you trust me."

"Of course…" Éponine said cautiously, a bit wary of what her friend was going to say next.

The marble man sighed. "Mon amie, please don't take offense to what I'm asking you to do, but… Mellon is quite fond of young women. Particularly, erm…"

"Sexy women?" Éponine tried, a sly smile crossing her face. Enjolras' face tinted red ever so slightly, and he cleared his throat, nodding his head. Suffice it to say, Éponine was quite flattered that her friend had thought her sexy enough to help him with his plan. She found it quite amusing that he couldn't say the word 'sexy' without her help, too.

"Well, yes. I was hoping you could come with me to help distract him from his wife; you see, I have a plan all worked out." He waited for Éponine to nod for him to continue. When she did, he launched into an explanation. "Well, you're going to be very crucial to what I have in mind. His wife is very unfaithful, but his guard—I've noticed—is down when she's distracted from him. And she's easily distracted, so I was figuring we could go up to them, strike up a conversation, and you, um… _distract _him in your own way, while I distract Madame Mellon in mine."

Éponine paused a moment, taking the whole thing in. Yes, that seemed to be a very good idea; there was one flaw, of course. "Yes, yes, except, I'm not sure you can sweet talk his wife into separating her from him." She smirked.

Enjolras stood straighter, furrowing his brow. "Of course I can."

"No, you really can't." Éponine chuckled. "You need a character to be around her if you really want to distract her; a character she likes. Meaning, find her type."

"How am I supposed to know what her 'type' is?" Enjolras asked, a bit exasperated; he thought his plan was perfect the way it was, and he hadn't realized that there was a crucial flaw in it. Thank God for Éponine. He had never done a thing like this before, so he hoped that his friend would be able to guide him like he had guided her through various history or language lessons back in the speakeasy.

"Well, we have to observe her if we're going to find out; this well be good for me, as well, since I need to know Monsieur Mellon's type, as well." Éponine grinned, turning to face the couple across the room, her mouth in a thin line of concentration as she observed.

Enjolras paused, staring at his friend for a moment, admiring her cleverness and what seemed to be experience in this category. "You've done this before?" He asked as he turned to watch the men who interacted with Madame Mellon.

"Enjolras, I've done many things like this to make enough money to put food on the table. Are you even surprised?" Éponine responded, taking note of how Monsieur Mellon seemed to enjoy women's breasts; so, she puffed up her chest a bit to adapt to the 'character' she was about to become.

Enjolras chuckled for a moment. "No, I can't say I am. Still, I do like how clever you are in situations like this; even if your experience may not be legal." He noticed how Madame Mellon quite enjoyed jokes, as she was laughing quite often with the couple she was currently talking to.

Éponine stiffened; she didn't like how Enjolras brought up the fact that she had partaken in illegal things. For a moment, she wondered how he had figured it out, but then she remembered how her father had tried to con him when they first met her family. The golden-haired man was quite smart, so he probably figured out what her families' 'business' was. "I'd prefer not to talk about that, monsieur." She said curtly.

"You're right, we should probably start to make our way over to them." Enjolras nodded, completely oblivious to Éponine's feelings. She stared after him incredulously; how could he be so clueless? No, she shook her head. Éponine told herself that she shouldn't expect Enjolras to pay attention to her emotions, considering they were only here on business. Still, he was her friend, and he was supposed to help her, right?

No. Éponine didn't want help. She wanted out of this night club. She wanted to go on a walk, like she did after Marius and Cosette had fallen in love, and just explore her familiar streets when it was dark and empty and she could be alone with no one else to worry about. She wanted to be back in the speakeasy, with a drink to cloud her mind and make life a bit easier.

But Éponine wasn't going to run away; she wasn't going to abandon Les Amis just because she was overwhelmed with a few jobs she needed to complete in one night. No, she didn't scare easy. All the brunette needed to do was get some money and some info, both of which were presenting themselves nicely to her as she made her way to the Mellon's with Enjolras at her side. If she could get Monsieur Mellon to dance with her, she could easily pickpocket him and earn a bit of money. In fact, that wasn't such a bad idea: she could dance with various men in the club and pick pocket them little by little and probably earn enough to cover the week or maybe even the month! She smiled to herself, proud that she had been able to work out a plan of her own without the help of her marble friend. Before the two made it to the Mellon's, Éponine stood in front of Enjolras quickly. He stopped walking, and glanced down to Éponine in annoyance.

"What now?" He muttered.

"We need fake names. You can be Louis, and I'll be Antoinette." She offered, and to her amusement, Enjolras understood her reference with a smile.

"Ah, you're remembering our French Revolution lesson, are you?" He allowed a genuine smile for Éponine, since none of Les Amis was around.

"I was inspired, I guess." Éponine shrugged, and stood by Enjolras' side, hooking her arm with his. "Shall we, ma chérie?"

Enjolras paused, and after he realized she was joking, grinned and gave a nod before walking with her to the Mellon's. When they were within earshot and the couple was alone, Éponine gasped grandly.

"Louis, dear, isn't that Monsieur Mellon?" She asked in a high pitched voice, making sure to push her chest out to make it look bigger. Of course, that got his and his wife's attention.

Enjolras did his best to get into character. "Why yes, ma chérie, it is!" He said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. The two moved closer to the beaming couple, and launched into their own conversations.

Éponine's task was easy, seeing as Mellon simply enjoyed her busty presence and made a point to make her laugh, which she did; quite often, in fact.

Enjolras had a bit of a harder time, seeing as he had never flirted with anyone before. Despite how many girls had tried to catch his attention before, and how many times they had flirted with him, he had never picked up on the skill himself, seeing as he had never seen a reason for it. Ever since he could remember, his main focus in life was to achieve financial equality for the people around him. He had been inspired because his parents were quite rich, but he had often visited the poorer parts of his neighborhood, and once he had gotten a glimpse of poverty, he had made a decision that his calling in life was to call others' to action and motivate them to make change. And ever since the Prohibition started, it gave him even more of a reason to achieve equality and overthrow the government, in a sense, to make the rich and pampered see that the world was made of much more than flapper dresses and fancy houses.

Although Madame Mellon enjoyed the presence of a very handsome young man alone, he had no idea how to stall her long enough for Éponine to get information from Monsieur Mellon.

"How do you like the club, darling?" Madame Mellon asked sweetly, almost batting her eyelashes at the golden-haired man. Enjolras cleared his throat, standing a bit straighter.

"It's quite fancy, madame. I particularly enjoy the cakes." He said, cracking a smile in what he hoped to be a charming manner to make the woman laugh. And she did, a bit too hard for his liking, but she laughed nonetheless, which helped to break the ice a bit.

"Oh, yes, the cakes are quite enjoyable. Would you like a bit more of them? Waiter!" She called without even waiting for an answer.

"Oh, no, madame, it's quite alright-" Enjolras began to politely decline, but a waiter made his way over soon after and Madame Mellon grabbed a small little cake, looking to Enjolras expectantly. He sighed, and took a small cake with a little painted flower on it, and hoped she didn't expect him to eat it, as it looked extremely sweet and he didn't have all that much of a sweet tooth.

He shouldn't have hoped.

"A toast, to wealth and prosperity in the Roaring Twenties! The age of jazz and the well-dressed!" Madame Mellon winked, which made Enjolras a bit uncomfortable, to say the least. He nodded, plastering a smile to his face as they 'clinked' their little cakes together, taking a bite at the same time. When he was finished with his bite, he searched for a place to set the cake down and abandon it, when Madame Mellon distracted him. "Oh, sweetheart, you've got a bit of icing in the corner of your mouth!" She giggled. Enjolras blinked, and rubbed his thumb on the spot where he thought she was pointing. "No, no, darling, I've got it." She grinned mischievously and dragged her index finger along the corner of his mouth, where a small blob of frosting perched when she pulled back. Madame Mellon brought her finger to her lips, licking the bit of frosting off in what she must have thought was a seductive way.

Enjolras attempted to smile, and turned his head to notice Éponine had lured Monsieur Mellon to the dance floor. He hoped she was in a better situation than he, as he certainly didn't wish this much awkwardness on anyone.

* * *

Éponine was doing quite well, in fact. She had already spotted a 20 dollar bill hanging out of the pocket of the monsieur, and she knew exactly how to pickpocket it. But she promised herself to get information before she stole the money, as she saw it as a way to pay herself. It was silly, but it did rob her of a bit of the guilt she would have after she pickpocketed this man.

Of course, she had noticed him stare at her breasts quite often, but she didn't really mind as she found it more amusing than offensive. She wondered if Cosette was placed in her situation, if she'd do anything differently. This led Éponine to wonder if Marius would be angry if he found out that a man had been staring at her in such a way. The thought made her smile a bit, and Monsieur Mellon caught her little smile.

"What makes you so happy, my dear?" He asked as they moved about the dance floor, in a simple waltz.

"Oh, I was simply noticing how nice your tie looks." Éponine answered quickly; not the best lie, but it would do. "My Louis, bless him, can never get his tie right! I always have to tie it for him; I swear, sometimes he can be such a bimbo. Of course, I tie his tie in exchange for him to zip my dress up properly." She smiled. Damn, sometimes she impressed herself on how well she could lie and make it sound pleasant.

"I can't imagine how Monsieur Louis can zip your dress up; he should be zipping it down, if he has the opportunity." Monsieur Mellon joked, and Éponine giggled. Even if he was a perverted piece of rich shit, the thought made her laugh.

And blush. Why was she blushing? A sudden image crossed her mind of Enjolras, half dressed, slowly zipping her dress down, down, down, with his lips ghosting over her neck…

Éponine cleared her throat abruptly. How embarrassing! If her friend could read her mind, he would be blushing so incredibly red. She giggled, picturing his face: he would look very flustered and red and probably clear his throat many times and try to stand extremely straight. She decided to relate that image to just hormones, nothing more. In fact, the thought, now looking back on it, made her laugh more than anything.

"Your face is red, darling!" Monsieur Mellon grinned.

"You do know how to make a girl blush, monsieur." Éponine lilted. "You know, I heard that you voted yes on the Prohibition bill and helped it to pass. I'm very glad of that; the drunks cramming up the streets just made it simply unbearable for a girl like me to make her way through the streets at night." She looked up at him through her eyelashes, slightly pouting her lip. Éponine knew that every man enjoyed feeling like a hero to 'innocent little women' like her. She had played this card many times before, and it had worked every single time. Sure enough, after a quick glance to her breasts, Monsieur Mellon stood up straighter and seemed to be quite proud of himself.

"Yes, well, we kept all citizens in mind when we passed the bill. It truly is one more step to a cleaner, more efficient America." He said surely.

"That's precisely what I was thinking. I've also heard that, despite your greatest efforts," Éponine lowered her voice dramatically as she leaned in closer to Monsieur Mellon, "underground bars are forming. But I've also heard that you're eradicating them one by one! How heroic, I must say."

"Yes, indeed, I've been helping with these plans of finding these speakeasies and terminating them with ease and without letting it leak into the press. You see, once the press gets a hold on something like this, other speakeasies will be alerted and it will be much harder to get rid of this alcoholic scum." Monsieur Mellon said matter-of-factly, acting like a puffed up fish.

"Oh, I whole-heartedly agree." Éponine nodded, and allowed herself to be twirled by Monsieur Mellon. "But, I can't help but wonder… Where _are _the speakeasies in my area?" She asked tentatively as they fell back into their waltzing position.

Monsieur Mellon paused, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"Only because I'm fearful for my safety." Éponine responded innocently, making her eyes as wide as possible. "I don't want to be walking home one night when I'm suddenly assaulted by a drunken idiot! I need to be there for my darling Louis… If only to tie his ties." She bit her lip, batting her eyelashes.

Monsieur Mellon paused, holding eye contact with the dark-haired mademoiselle. Éponine prayed he would spit out the info, and she prayed he wouldn't mention the Café Musain as a speakeasy that was to be eradicated.

"Alright, but only because I can't resist a pretty face and a… sexy figure." He muttered after his eyes roamed her body once again. Éponine refrained from slapping him; his perverted nature was certainly getting on her nerves, to say the least. "We have so far discovered the Lucky Clover, the Cheshire Grin, and the Dark Tree Grove. I suspect there are more, but we are working on having undercover men go into places we are suspicious of, and hopefully purify this area before we move on to the next city."

Éponine nodded, doing her best to hide her relieved expression. "That's a lovely plan, monsieur. I have complete faith that you will cleanse this area in no time, and my Louis and I will be completely safe." She smiled sweetly, and stepped back as the song ended. Monsieur Mellon kissed her hand, much to her distaste, and nodded surely.

"I have complete faith we will, as well. Oh, how I wish we could dance one more song." He said, looking to her as if to ask for one more dance.

"Oh, I wish we could, too. But Louis and I must…" She searched for a proper excuse. "We must get home. You see, we've been, erm, trying for a child." As soon as that excuse slipped out of her mouth, Éponine regretted saying it. Enjolras would be incredibly displeased with literally everything she had thought and said about him, if he knew.

Monsieur Mellon's eyes lit up. "Oh! Well, best of luck to you two. Give your son a good name, like Andrew." He winked, referring to his own first name. Éponine laughed, a bit put off that Monsieur Mellon had assumed their imaginary child to be a male without any question.

"Of course, Monsieur. Louis!" She called as the two made their way back to Madame Mellon and Enjolras; suffice it to say, the two came across a funny scene.

Madame Mellon had 'accidentally' spilt her drink all over Enjolras' shirt, and he looked quite disgruntled. Probably not because she had ruined his suit, but because she had been flirting so much with him that it got on his nerves.

"Oh, sweetheart! I'm so sorry, here; let me clean that up for you!" Madame Mellon exclaimed, grabbing a napkin and dabbing at his shirt that was currently clinging to his toned figure.

"No, no, it's fine. Really, I can-" Enjolras tried to push her off gently, much to Éponine's amusement. She almost let the scene continue on, interrupted, because it was so funny, but decided to grant the revolutionary leader some mercy.

"Oh, Louis, my dear, your suit is all ruined!" Éponine exclaimed, rushing over to an incredibly relieved Enjolras.

"Yes, Antoinette, ma chérie, we should go home and change." He said quickly, stepping away from Madame Mellon and to Éponine's side. Even if the two weren't in a relationship, the brunette felt that Madame Mellon didn't quite understand that Enjolras was with her. So, she intertwined her hand with his, and smiled politely to the Madame. (She might have also done it to mess with Enjolras just a bit more.)

"Thank you for the dance, Monsieur; and Madame, thank you for taking my clumsy husband off of my hands for a few minutes!" Éponine giggled, looking to Enjolras with amusement. He looked a bit bewildered that she was holding his hand, but he went with it because he didn't want to be taken back to Madame Mellon.

"Oh, don't mention it, darling. You caught yourself a handsome one." Madame Mellon winked, and waved good-bye to Enjolras in, again, what she thought was a seductive manner.

"Aha, yes, well, we really need to be going. Come along, darling." Enjolras said quickly, and pretty much dragged a laughing Éponine away to the table Les Amis was sitting at.

* * *

**A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter! Thanks so much for reading, and I'm so sorry once again that I haven't updated in so long! I promise to be better at updating, it's just the end of the school year and I'm trying to raise grades and everything... Favs and Reviews and Follows are much appreciated! Thank you so much for reading!**


	7. High Hopes

**A/N: Thanks very much for the reviews! They mean very much, and I always look forward to reading them! **

**I'm very very sorry for not updating sooner, but I had finals and graduation parties, and it just wasn't a good time for me to be writing, and I lost motivation, and yeah. This week was very messy, but I finally gave you guys a long chapter! I'm planning on Enjolras and Éponine to start to really feel for each other soon, no worries :D**

**This chapter needed a little bit of angst, simply because I hate happiness. No, I'm kidding, I just felt the need for there to be a bit of Éponine pain because it isn't like she isn't hurt enough already (sarcasm).**

**Anyhow, here's chapter 7!**

* * *

The entire table was erupting in laughter; Joly's head was on the table, Grantaire could barely sip in a drink (even if it wasn't alcoholic), and Courfeyrac was almost falling on the floor as Éponine relayed exactly what had happened with her and Enjolras.

"And then…!" She exclaimed; she, too, was laughing incredibly hard. The brunette had just finished telling them about how Madame Mellon had noticed the blob of frosting on Enjolras' face, and the table had inferred about what was to happen next. Éponine had decided to leave out the part where the Madame had spilled her drink all over him, because she didn't want Enjolras to be _too _embarrassed. Besides, the lighting was dark enough to hide the punch stain considerably. Essentially, the story wasn't all that funny, but the marble man's reactions were priceless (that, and, everyone was giddy from all the dancing and partying.). At each sentence Éponine spoke, Enjolras got redder and redder and kept shifting in his seat while all of Les Amis was busting up laughing. "Then, she literally _dragged _her finger aaaallll the way across his mouth!"

At this, the table laughed even more. "Care to demonstrate, Enjolras? We need to see just how slowly the Madame did it!" Grantaire hollered, to which Enjolras reddened even more.

Éponine had never seen her friend so embarrassed, but it wasn't in an incredibly bad way; she could see the corners of his mouth twitching, and the main point of her telling this story—for her—was to get Enjolras to smile for his revolutionaries.

So, in an attempt to get him to crack, Éponine leaned over to her friend, and dragged her index finger agonizingly slowly over the corner of his mouth, which partially opened when she made contact with the skin. When he didn't seem to get a rise out of it, at least not visually, and the table was stifling their laughter (they all knew Éponine well enough to know that she wouldn't stop until her friend had beamed), the brunette decided on an inappropriate decision.

"Ohhh, Enjolras!" She moaned, throwing her head back for extra measure. Les Amis was cracking up, and Enjolras' lips were twitching even more. She earned a bounty of glares from people within earshot, mostly old couples, but Enjolras still wasn't smiling, so Éponine still wasn't finished. "Oh, Enjolras, you can butter my cream any day!"

That was it; that was the last straw. Enjolras finally smiled; a very wide smile in fact, and the table erupted in a round of applause.

"Hey! He smiles! He's human!" Courfeyrac howled, earning a few curious glances from passing by guests of the club. The music was quite loud, but Courfeyrac had decided to yell that when the music came to a break. "Hah, erm, pardon me!" He laughed, taking a sip of his water because the club obviously didn't allow alcohol.

"Hah! I'm the bee's knees, Enjolras, admit it." Éponine proclaimed smugly, sitting back in her chair with triumph.

"'Butter my cream'?" Enjolras asked, raising his eyebrows to Éponine in a questioning manner.

"I dunno, I guess the frosting was buttercream, so I just tried to find an innuendo in there somewhere?" She explained, shrugging idly. "But the main victory of this night is-"

"The fact that we know exactly what clubs are being shut down and just how close we are to being found out." Enjolras interrupted, casting everyone a pointed look. Éponine sighed, looking down. There was that good ol' serious Enjolras again. Sure, the main reason she was here was to get info and money (she had managed to snatch Monsieur Mellon's 20 without him noticing, and was now hiding the bill in her bra.), but couldn't Enjolras just relax for a bit? Her friend was naturally committed to the cause, but they came for info, acquired it, and still had time to spare!

Now that Éponine had completed basically all of her tasks, she felt quite content and happy to just be at the club. Just so long as her friends didn't find out that her family was here and that she was related to them, then Éponine would be a-okay the whole night through. She was kind of hoping that her friend would loosen up as well, so that she'd be able to have a good time with him and the other Amis.

But of course, this was Enjolras, and she shouldn't have expected him to be so flexible.

Grantaire, as usual, voiced everyone else's thoughts. He groaned loudly, rolling his eyes.

"Enjolras, please! You need to loosen up!" He grinned, but this time Enjolras rolled his eyes.

"I'll loosen up once we're out of this stuffed up night club." He responded with distaste.

"Yeah, that'll be a sight to see." Courfeyrac muttered, and Éponine grinned over at him.

"Aren't you accustomed to 'stuffed up night clubs'?" Musichetta piped up, raising an eyebrow; everyone turned and looked at Enjolras expectantly for his answer.

After a moment, Enjolras huffed. "I am, but that doesn't mean I like them." He replied, and stood up. "If you'll excuse me." And with that, he walked off, probably to the washroom. Shucks, Éponine knew that Enjolras must have come from a rich background, but she thought that he'd feel more at home in a lavish place like this. It was a little disheartening to see him so professional in what was supposed to be a fun place. Then again, perhaps he was just raised to be professional everywhere.

"Well, now that he isn't here to judge our every move, we can finally dance!" Grantaire exclaimed, leaping up. The other Amis, who looked quite relieved to be rid of Enjolras and his restriction on them, joined Grantaire on the dance floor as another song began to play.

Éponine quickly got up and hurried onto the dance floor with her friends, a bright smile gracing her face now that she finally got to have some fun.

At first, she wasn't all that good at dancing, even now that her mind wasn't weighed down with worry like when Cosette and Musichetta tried to dance with her, but after a few basic teachings from Bahorel, she got the hang of it.

"How come you know so many dance moves?" Éponine asked Bahorel, shouting over the music to be heard.

"Ladies like to dance, and I like ladies, so I figured I'd learn to dance in order to maybe find a love of my own!" Bahorel called over the din. "Would you like to see a particularly romantic move I learned a few weeks ago?"

"But of course, monsieur!" Éponine laughed, and Bahorel took her hand in his. He quickly twirled her around once or twice, and then unexpectedly dipped her, much to Éponine's surprise. "Ah!" She exclaimed, but quickly recovered and laughed excitedly. Bahorel was beaming.

"I surprised you, didn't I?" He chuckled, and Éponine nodded. "Any girl would be in love with me after a dance like that."

"Yes, you did surprise me! But, unfortunately, I'm not in love with you." She shrugged, pretending to be all sly like those femme fatales in the books she had checked out from the library after Enjolras and a couple of Les Amis had ranted and raved about how lovely reading was.

Bahorel snapped his fingers, acting defeated. "Shucks! Ah, well, I tried."

"Maybe she's just hard to get!" Musichetta called, spinning away from Joly to join Éponine and Bahorel. "Speaking of 'hard to get', I think Monsieur Mellon's daughter has been eyeing you for some time." She winked, nodding over to the pretty young lady, who was in fact, staring at Bahorel.

"Oh, yeah, uh, excuse me." He said, and quickly hurried over to the doll.

"He's such a romantic, it's almost endearing." Musichetta smiled, and Éponine giggled.

"Hm, yes, I picked that up after I've noticed him flirting with anything that has boobs and a pulse." She grinned, earning a laugh from Musichetta.

"You pick up on things quickly! Although, it isn't hard to tell that Bahorel is in love with love. Even so, I noticed him teaching you male dance moves rather than female, so I've come to save you." Musichetta nodded, and Éponine smiled graciously.

"Thank you!" She grinned, and Musichetta wasted no time in teaching her dance moves more accustomed to her taste.

After a couple dances, the brunette got the hang of dancing, and Musichetta felt quite accomplished. Cosette and Marius joined Joly and the two girls off the dance floor after a song ended.

"I heard you're becoming quite the dancer, 'Ponine!" Marius commented with a smile, which caused Éponine to beam widely.

"Oh, I don't know about that…" She blushed, and felt butterflies in her stomach.

"No, I saw you!" Cosette insisted. "You looked very natural over there, and your dress just looked simply ravishing as you moved." She smiled kindly, and Éponine thanked her.

"Éponine, did you see where Enjolras went?" Joly asked, and the brunette shook her head.

"No, why?" She asked.

"Well, erm…" Joly seemed hesitant to share his thoughts. "Nothing. It's nothing, don't worry about it. If you see him, would you tell him I need to speak with him?"

"Sure." Éponine responded, and instantly thought something was wrong. Joly wasn't one to hold back in speaking, unless it was something of grave importance. "I was going to go look for him anyways." She decided, and after bidding a quick farewell to her friends, Éponine dove right back into the large crowd of the rich in search of her friend.

* * *

It took quite a while to find the golden-haired man, mostly because she kept spotting members of her family among the crowd, so Éponine was forced to avoid them at pretty much every turn she took. The brunette almost ran into Azelma, managed to maneuver out of her way, but didn't have any time to sigh out of relief, because she bumped into Montparnasse a second after.

"Well, well, well! And here I thought this night was gonna be boring!" Montparnasse grinned, and Éponine almost snarled at his very existence.

"What do you want?" She snapped.

"I said I wanted a dance. But considering you don't let me do anything to ya without payin ya, I figured I'd pay for a dance." He drawled, taking out a dollar bill.

Éponine narrowed her eyes, and tried to control the rage boiling up in her. How dare Montparnasse objectify her like that? (She had learned what the word objectified meant in one of the lessons Enjolras had given her.) How could Montparnasse think, that after everything he had done to her, he could just come up to her at an event that was supposed to be fun for her, and pay her for a dance? This was like a classier version of prostitution.

But nothing was classy with Montparnasse, especially with the way he was looking at her. She shoved her face up close to him, their noses almost touching. Éponine's jaw was set, and she kept eye contact with him for extra intimidation.

"Beat it before I beat _you." _She hissed, but Montparnasse didn't seem fazed. His arm snaked around her waist, and he planted a quick kiss on her lips before he shoved the dollar bill in her hand as he held it tightly.

He basically forced her into a dance position, much to Éponine's hatred, but he had maneuvered them to the middle of the dance floor, so she didn't have any choice but to go along with it, lest she risk causing a scene and getting kicked out of the club.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look in your dress?" He murmured into her ear. "I don't think I did. Well, you look beautiful in your dress."

"Save it." Éponine muttered, though she found it completely out of character for Montparnasse to be so nice to her. _'It's probably because he isn't drunk.' _She reasoned, and tried to pull away from his tight embrace.

He pulled her in tighter, and chuckled. Éponine curled her lip. "No, no, I said a full dance. The song isn't even over yet!"

Éponine said nothing. She knew he was just looking to get a rise out of her, and she was done with giving him what he wanted. As much as Éponine hated herself, she was beginning to gain some self-respect because of how intelligent she was becoming. Did Montparnasse or Azelma or her mother know the history behind prohibition like Enjolras did? Or a simple little piano piece? Could any of them write sonnets about people they thought they loved, like Bahorel could? Could they look at an oozing wound and see it with curiosity rather than disgust like Joly could? No. Granted, neither could Éponine, but she noticed that she was slowly becoming like the friends around her; she was becoming smarter and happier and more fashion-savvy than she was before.

So why should a simple little dance with Montparnasse dampen her feelings? Éponine was with her friends, and this dance would be over soon. Screw Montparnasse. Screw her father and mother, screw how they thought they could control her completely; they obviously couldn't, now that Éponine was developing more of a mind of her own.

Plus, she already had a 20 in her grasp. Éponine didn't need Montparnasse's filthy money; she had gotten by on her own without any help. She had been getting by on her own for 17 years, and how dare Montparnasse still have the gall to pay her for a meager _dance? _

The saxophones blared out the final note to the song they had been playing, and everyone broke apart from their partners to clap. Éponine shoved Montparnasse away from her, holding her chin high.

He looked a bit disgruntled at first, but then grinned. "I like your fire, Éponine. I was beginning to think that Marius had snuffed out that little flame of yours."

She blinked, realizing that she hadn't once thought of Marius the entire dance. Usually when she was with Montparnasse in the past, she would daydream about Marius holding her or kissing her or whatever. Why hadn't she daydreamed like she usually would?

Montparnasse flung the dollar bill to her, expecting Éponine to clamber for the money, but they both just watched it flutter to the ground.

Éponine's mouth curled into a smug grin at Montparnasse's almost questioning expression. "I don't want your charity, you pig." She spat, and spun on her heel, walking away from Montparnasse with her head held high.

* * *

Éponine felt exhilarated, to say the least. She had stood up to Montparnasse in the most lady-like way possible for her, and she had enough money to last her for a month, and now Enjolras was in her line of sight! He was standing with his elbows propped on the marble railings of the balcony of the second-floor of the club, staring out at the view of the city. Her friend wouldn't know about what had just happened, she decided, because she didn't think he cared; but still, it was great to feel independent for once (and not have the thought of Marius prodding her every second of the day).

"Enjolras!" She called, trotting over to him with a newfound bounce in her step. It was a small victory, but Éponine still wanted to savor this feeling for as long as she was allowed.

Enjolras turned, a bit surprised to see the brunette walking toward him happily. He enjoyed seeing his friend like this, with a smile and something to be happy about. "Hello, Éponine." He greeted.

She beamed, so much so that her dimples were showing, and joined Enjolras by the edge of the balcony. "Wow. This is quite a view, ain't it? Er, uh, sorry, isn't it?" She quickly corrected herself before Enjolras could.

Enjolras smiled. "Yes, it's quite beautiful. I apologize for being so short with you back there."

"Oh, pfsh, don't worry about it." Éponine said, waving his apology away dismissively. "I'm not entirely sure why you don't feel at home in such a…" She searched for a synonym for 'rich'. "…wealthy place. To my, er, understanding, you grew up in a wealthy neighborhood." Éponine hoped she wasn't being too invasive, but Enjolras didn't seem to mind. He had known Éponine for a while; he figured he could tell her the longer version of his childhood.

"It's not that I don't feel at home here; home just has a different definition for me. You see, my parents were mostly concerned with my keeping the family name clean." Enjolras said. "They never really fed my interests as much as I wished for them to. My father is the headmaster of a university, and it has the best library I've seen; when I was a child, I would always go there after school and complete my own studies there. Whenever my mother or father asked what I was reading, I'd always just say it was a romantic novel. They had always hoped I'd marry a pretty girl and have a couple kids, you know; carry on the family name."

"Were they disappointed when you didn't flirt with every girl that talked to you?" Éponine asked.

Enjolras chuckled. "In a sense, yes. My mother, particularly, kept on forcing me to go on dates with her friends' daughters. My father would simply smile and look the other way, but I hated it. None of those girls were smart enough for me." He paused. "I hope that doesn't offend you."

Éponine shrugged. "There's such a thing as preferences. Not everyone is meant for everyone. It's a little much for people to hold themselves to standards like 'thou shalt love all' or whatever that commandment is."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, interested. "You don't believe humanity should follow the Ten Commandments?"

"Well, no. I just don't think that society should," Éponine paused, searching for the right words, "should expect everyone to love each other and be forgiving when they usually can't find those traits in themselves. History has shown time and time again that humans are idiots and everyone does something wrong at some point or another. And when times were dark, of course people turned to religion; but, remember when you were teaching me about the Black Death? Well, Europe blamed the Jews because they thought God was punishing them, so they, in turn punished the Jews. All I'm saying is that, even if something like the Bible preaches good things, or if something like Buddha teaches people to be in touch with the earth, I just think that humans should try to understand themselves before they try and apply old teachings to their life to understand others."

"Because how are you supposed to achieve peace if you can't find it within yourself?" Enjolras agreed.

"Exactly!" Éponine smiled brightly. "Shoot, next thing you know, I'll become a philosopher!"

"If you're very interested in the subject, I can take you on a visit to my father's University. You can pick out lots of books on the subject you just described and expand your knowledge on it." He offered.

"That would be really great, actually." Éponine said, still smiling broadly. "But, I mean, wouldn't that take away from your time with Les Amis?"

Enjolras shrugged. "I can just escort you there and then double back to the Musain in time for our meetings. My father's University is in this general vicinity, so I can just drive you there and back. When you've finished with all of your reading, I'd be very interested in your newfound opinions."

"Even if my opinions don't help with your revolution?" Éponine asked, a little disappointed that Enjolras wouldn't stay with her at his father's University, but still incredibly grateful and surprised that he would offer to take her to such a fancy library.

"Sometimes even the silliest thoughts provoke my inspiration." Enjolras answered, shrugging idly.

Éponine smiled warmly. "Thank you, Enjolras." After a moment, she bumped her shoulder with his playfully. "Well, are you gonna continue your personal history lesson?"

Enjolras chuckled. "Of course. Well, as I said, all of the girls my mother introduced me to didn't have the same thoughts or opinions as I did. They all seemed to be brainwashed into the idea that a man would only like them if they wanted children and didn't have any idea about politics. Of course, that didn't 'float my boat', as you'd say. Eventually, I got sick of all of these dates and asked my mother to stop setting them up. She and my father became concerned for my health, as if they thought that if I couldn't hold a relationship with a woman, then I was crazy and needed to be taught properly in a different school. So, they took me out of the all-boys private school I was attending, and shoved me into a public school. Granted, that school was still quite good, but I got distracted."

"Ooooh, Enjolras had crushes?" Éponine exclaimed, propping her elbows on the rails and resting her chin on her palms. "Do tell!"

Enjolras chuckled. "Well, yes. Unfortunately, I had a rather big crush on my history teacher."

"Oh, man!" Éponine laughed. "You were hot for teacher!"

"I suppose." He shrugged, still smiling. "Of course, I never acted on my crush, I was just simply distracted by wanting to impress her with extra work that I forgot about my other classes and how important they were. This was a huge problem, so I worked hard to get a scholarship to an all-boys university so that I'd never have to go through that crush ordeal again. It was horrible." He shook his head, and Éponine chuckled.

"Trust me, I understand you there. Sometimes romantic feelings get in the way of things." She nodded, and a thought of Marius flashed through her brain. Éponine blinked like she was trying to get something out of her eye, trying to ignore the throbbing of her heart. Come on, she couldn't start getting all love-sick now! She was having a great time!

"I agree." Enjolras responded, his gaze flitting over the dancing city lights below them. "Anyway, I'm still going to that all-boys university, which is why you probably don't see me around much during the day."

"You go to a university all day and study, and then you come here and plan revolts?" Éponine exclaimed, baffled. "With _that _bunch of bimbos?"

Enjolras chuckled. "I'm quite a tolerant person."

"So you are." She responded, "They're all very intelligent, though. I admire the education you all have."

"Yes, they're all very smart. I just wish they would take this more seriously sometimes." He huffed, glancing at Éponine.

"Well, they do get bored. And don't try to pretend you don't get tired of preaching to them all the time! I've seen you get exasperated, and then you turn to me with your lessons and everything." She grinned. "Sometimes I wonder if you even sleep!"

"Thinking keeps one healthy." Enjolras pointed out.

"But too much thinking can be destructive." Éponine countered, raising her eyebrows. The marble man paused, then nodded when he saw her point.

"You're cleverer than you let on, Éponine." He admitted, and turned his gaze back to the landscape. She grinned and looked behind her when a very exciting and upbeat song began to play.

"Have you ever danced? Not all proper like waltzing or anything, but swing dancing?" She asked, turning away from the window.

Enjolras thought for a moment. He had never really had a desire for dancing, since he saw it as a major distraction for his revolution planning, but he figured that he could dance just a bit for his friend. "No, I can't say that I have."

"Oh, well, you're missing out. Musichetta taught me some very exciting dance moves before I came up here…" Éponine quirked an eyebrow, glancing to her friend with a grin. "I could teach you a bit, if you want."

Enjolras shrugged. "I suppose, since we're not really doing anything… But I'm not the best dancer, so that's a fair warning."

She chuckled. "Don't worry, I only learned a few moments ago. We can be terrible dancers together!" Éponine grinned, and curtsied in the most improper but hilarious way possible. "Care to dance, monsieur?"

Enjolras chuckled. "But of course, mademoiselle." He bowed, properly, because he had been trained to as a child and it just stuck.

In an instant, Éponine joined her hands with his and started to sway her hips, laughing at her friend's surprised expression.

"Just move! The whole point of swing dancing is to loosen up!" She called over the music.

Enjolras seemed quite uncertain, but Éponine kept him at it. "Have you ever twirled a girl before?" She asked, and he nodded. "Well then twirl me, monsieur!"

He did just that, lifting his arm over her head as Éponine spun around and the two fell back into their normal position in an instant.

"Impressive! But how about a different type of twirling?" She grinned.

"What other type is there?" Enjolras asked, uncertain of where Éponine was going with this.

"Here, I'm gonna spin in to you, and then spin back out the other way! Just follow my lead." She ordered, and stood an arms' length away from Enjolras, grabbed his hand, and spun into him so that his arm was curled around her torso and still gripping her hand while she was pressed against his body. "Excellent, now grab my other hand with your other hand and I'll spin out."

Enjolras did, with some difficulty, complete the move.

"Nice!" Éponine laughed, and Enjolras smiled.

"You're quite different from your family, Éponine!" Enjolras chuckled, straightening up.

Éponine's smile fell instantly. "What?"

"Er…" Enjolras seemed confused. Didn't she want to differentiate from her terrible family? "I was just-"

"Just what?" She asked flatly, crossing her arms out of angered habit. She was having a perfectly fine time, but Enjolras just _had _to bring up her family.

"Well…" Oh, great, did he offend her? Enjolras cleared his throat. "It's just that, from what I know, your family is very…"

"Gross? Impolite? Stupid? I may hate them, Enjolras, but I'm still related to them, and I still have a moral obligation to defend the ones I actually care about." She snapped. _'Like Azelma and Gavroche.' _Éponine thought. At least her siblings were smarter and kinder than their parents; and it wasn't Enjolras' place to assume how her family acted.

"That's not what I was implying-" He began, but Éponine wouldn't hear it.

"I know perfectly well what you were implying! You rich folk are all the same, I suppose! Taking pity on someone like me who doesn't have enough money to buy a dress on her own, and praising them when they don't act like how they were supposed to be raised! What if the roles were reversed? What if I complimented you for being different from your family because you wore rags and hung out in the streets, stealing bread just so you wouldn't starve the night? People who are damaged and broken have motives for being that way, and my parents weren't always bad! In fact, now that I've become more of a woman, they're becoming more sophisticated!" She held her head high; Éponine wasn't about to let Enjolras know that her family was still just as broken as before; she was entitled to some dignity, plus, she didn't want his pity! And Enjolras didn't know that her family was in the club right now, stealing things from people, so how could he possibly know exactly what background she came from?

Enjolras set his jaw. Éponine was becoming difficult to talk to now, when she wouldn't let him finish his sentences. That was a major pet peeve of his, when someone wouldn't let him finish his thought. It was all because of him that she was as smart as she was! And he had seen where she lived; he knew what kind of people her parents' were, even if he hadn't met them properly before. He knew the type. And he had noticed when Éponine's sleeves would be rolled up, he could see bruises and cuts that he knew were the acts of domestic violence. All he wanted to do was to compliment her and continue to have a nice evening! But she took his statement the wrong way, and he wanted to clear up his words. Just as he was about to open his mouth, the music cut short and some folks on the dance floor cried out in rage or fear.

"Oi! Get your hands out of my pocket!"

"That man stole my twenty!"

"She tried to take my wife's broach!"

"He attempted to dance with my daughter! The scoundrel!"

"Everyone back off! Tell me, what's the situation? Tell me how and when and why?" A loud voice called over the accusations.

Enjolras and Éponine rushed to the railings overlooking the bottom part of the club, and what they saw completely contradicted everything Éponine had just said.

Monsieur and Madame Thénardier were surrounded in the middle of the dance floor, looking incredibly guilty. Éponine noticed some garments on her mother that most certainly were not hers, and she could spot some dollar bills peeking out of her father's clothes in his pathetic attempt to hide them. Javert walked up to the two of them, his lip ever so slightly curled in disgust.

The club was silent, except Enjolras heard the sound of Éponine's face falling into her hands out of shame.

"Er… What seems to be the problem, officer?" Monsieur Thénardier asked pathetically.

Javert plucked a dollar bill peeking out of Thénardier's collar, and examined it carefully. "I don't believe it's wise to stuff one's money in their clothes. Unless, the money isn't yours and your pockets were too full of stolen money that you resorted to stuffing your clothes." He stated, while a few police officers stood behind him, at the ready to arrest the two people standing in front of them.

"Ah… haha, monsieur, I was simply-" Thénardier started to explain himself, but Javert simply nodded to the cops behind him, and the two were arrested instantly. The madame and monsieur were hollering excuses as they were hauled away, but of course, Javert was not swayed. He nodded to the rest of the guests.

"Apologies, my good fellows. Continue on with your night." He said simply, and exited the dance floor; probably off to the sheriff's station to lock Éponine's parents up.

Enjolras paused; the band began to strike up another song, and after a moment of murmurs and uncertain looks around the club, the rest of the guests began to dance again. He looked over to Éponine, whose face was still buried in her hands.

He cleared his throat, "Um, Éponine-"

"Just!" She held up a finger, refusing to look her friend in the eyes. "Just, do me a favor and don't say anything. Okay? I'm gonna go. Catch you later." And with that, the brunette turned and hurried down to the first floor. Enjolras huffed, and strode after her.

"Éponine, the least I can do is give you a ride home." He said; even if she did get on his nerves tonight, a girl dressed in her attire shouldn't be walking in a neighborhood like hers at this time of night.

"Really, I am just swell on my own." She said through gritted teeth, pushing past a few idiotic people. Enjolras pressed on, refusing to let her alone. He could be stubborn, too.

"Then I'm walking you home."

"I don't want you to think I'm so unlike my family that I can't handle myself on the streets!" She shot at him, and was just about to fling open the door when a clap of thunder sounded outside.

A couple girls squeaked in fear and clung to their partners; Éponine noticed Cosette and Marius doing the same. She set her jaw, and ignored the pounding of her heart; ever since she was young and her mother had punished her by setting her outside the whole night in a thunderstorm, the brunette had had an irrational fear of lightning and thunder. Of _course _right when she was about to head home, a thunderstorm brewed. Just her luck…

Enjolras huffed; he didn't notice how pale Éponine's face had become, since he was a little pissed at her attitude. "Despite how difficult you're being, I believe that-"

"Fine." She bit out.

"What?"

"Fine. You can walk me home. Or, whatever. I don't care. Just, let's just go." She was staring at Marius and Cosette, how they both looked so safe and content in each other's arms. Enjolras followed her gaze, and his eyes softened. As much as Éponine annoyed him, what with her blind love for Pontmercy and her stubbornness, his heart still went out to her. She had a hard enough life, and didn't deserve someone like Pontmercy anyways. He pulled the door open, but Éponine still didn't turn away from the couple. Some moisture was welling up in the corners of her eyes, but he could tell she was trying to keep her tears from falling.

Enjolras took off his coat, and plopped it on the shoulders of his friend, who looked at him in a very startled manner. Her eyes were wide and a little red, and her dimples were gone for now, but Enjolras seemed to find her very pretty nonetheless.

"I don't think you deserve to get wet. Let's go home."


	8. Guns and Dances

**A/N: I'm soooo very sorry for not updating! There's really no excuse for not updating for this long, I just got hit with zero inspiration or drive to do anything, and school is very demanding right now. But here's a nice long chapter for y'all! Their feelings are finally starting to develop, after all this time! Please enjoy!**

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Éponine's bright red shoes clacked against the pavement and Enjolras' slacks sloshed at the hem due to the puddles. They were walking down an empty avenue; not even cars were out and about, save one or two taxis. It was still raining, but not as badly as before, and the thunder occurred less often than it previously had. She still gripped his coat around her shoulders, her teeth permanently clasped over her lip. Now that Éponine was out of the club and away from her family and Marius and Cosette and the guilt of stealing the money, she realized how stupid and selfish and rude she had been to Enjolras. But her marble friend was stoic as ever: silent and still, except for his legs.

She glanced at him from time to time, hoping to catch his gaze so that she could say her apology and clear her conscience. But he obviously didn't want to hear it, as he kept his gaze forward and his hands in his pockets.

She decided small talk would suffice, for now.

"Aren't you cold?" Éponine asked, and realized her voice was small, since she hadn't used it for about 15 minutes. She wasn't sure how long they had been walking, but the rain and occasional rumbles of thunder made it seem timeless. Despite her fear of the storm, Enjolras' presence seemed to distract her a little; that, and she couldn't seem to get Marius and Cosette and how happy they were out of her mind. Plus, she would probably have to find some way to bail her parents out of jail, most likely using the 20 she had stolen, and—

"No." Enjolras replied, and changed his gaze to look down at his feet; his pace wasn't as fast as usual, since Éponine didn't have to occasionally trot to keep up with him. Perhaps he was cold, so his strides were shorter? She glanced at his forearm, which was exposed since he had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and sure enough, there were goose bumps on his skin.

Éponine frowned and glared at the ground. She was frustrated at herself, since she couldn't even get a stupid apology out, and she was frustrated at Enjolras for not giving her anything to work with. He only said 'no', what was she supposed to say to that?

He sighed, and looked up to the small overhang they were under, which was protruding from a shop. "Despite everything, tonight was quite a success." Enjolras said tiredly, stopping and rubbed his eyes with his palm. They had halted in front of a darkened bookstore, labeled "Dublin, Inc. Bookstore".

"This shop hides The Lucky Clover." He nodded to the door behind Éponine, and she turned to look at the 'closed' sign behind the glass. A rumble of thunder sounded, and she tensed, gripping the coat tighter.

"Is it really closed?" She asked tersely. She wanted to get out of the storm and warm her belly with liquor.

"No."

"Can we go in?"

Enjolras paused. He noticed for the first time that Éponine was quite tense; probably because she was still mad at him. Perhaps she was hoping for a drink to get her mind off of Marius; which, for some reason, struck a chord in Enjolras' gut. He didn't like that she was still hung up on Pontmercy, and he didn't like that she kept hanging out with Les Amis just to be around Marius. The only reason he would actually want to go into The Lucky Clover would be to warn his friend and owner of The Lucky Clover, another supporter of his revolt against Prohibition, Delmont.

"Are you really _for_ our cause?" He asked, and Éponine turned to face him. He noticed that her eyes were glistening, and her jaw was tensed.

"Yes. I like getting drinks when they aren't in secret places." She answered, and didn't wait for him as she opened the door and stepped inside.

Enjolras huffed, and paused a while before he went in after her. He didn't want her to go unattended into a speakeasy, after all.

"Delmont!" He called once inside, and was met with a strong hand clasped around his mouth and an arm restricting both of his behind his back. He glanced around wildly, and his gaze fell on the shape of Éponine, who was in the same position as he: a large man behind her with his hand over her mouth and his other hand gripping her arms tightly. The book shop disguising the speakeasy below was pitch black, except for the little bit of light streaming in through the closed blinds. Enjolras yelled through the hand holding him, but his voice couldn't carry through the thick skin of his captor, so he struggled against the strong grip, but it only tightened in response to his wriggling.

A light switched on, and a man in uniform was sitting in a chair with a gun sitting idly in his lap. Enjolras quit struggling, and tried to focus on who the man was. He smirked and took off his police hat, to reveal sunken green eyes and messy black hair that was in desperate need of a trim.

"Bonjour, mon ami." He chuckled and Enjolras' eyebrows knitted together in fury and confusion. "Oh, Aluin, you may take your hands off him. I want to hear what he has to say!"

The man behind Enjolras released him, so he figured his name was Aluin. As soon as he was released, he rolled his shoulders and glared into his no-longer friend's eyes. "Delmont!" He hissed. "What's the meaning of this? Is this some sick trick?"

Delmont shook his head, and picked up the gun, twirling it on his finger. "No, I've just been gettin' tired of my wife being taken advantage of by your friends, so I decided to switch teams." He shrugged as if that was the most casual thing to say in the world.

Enjolras scowled, and looked to Éponine, who was fighting to not look terrified. "Switch teams?" He returned his gaze to Delmont. "Do you mean to say-"

"Yes, they offered me an excellent position in the police force when I tipped them off as to where this little gem was." He replied, and looked around the bookstore surrounding him. "At first, they didn't believe me, but as soon as I showed them that trapdoor you and I helped build way back when, they thought I was some genius so I landed the leadership of a section of their whole gang or whatever they call it these days. Plus, I can still show up in non-uniform in the speakeasies I let survive and get my drink! It's a win-win situation."

"I don't understand. What did you mean by, my friend's taking advantage of your wife? Why did you get The Lucky Clover shut down? Doesn't your wife's father own this place? Wouldn't they both get put away?" Enjolras argued.

"That's the point!" Delmont exclaimed, and stood up in one swift motion and began to pace slowly around the room. "My wife, in case you hadn't heard, decided to have sex with _your _good friend Grantaire! I couldn't have that, not when I gave up my job at my dad's auto shop to be with her and run this underground shit-mill."

Enjolras' jaw tightened and he glanced to Éponine once again; he wasn't comfortable with Delmont cursing in a lady's presence, even if that lady was Éponine. She, however, didn't seem shocked in the least, despite her current position of being held captor.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I break your precious gentlemanly rules, Enj?" Delmont asked, his tone heavy with sarcasm. "Who is this baby, anyway?" He licked his lips as he looked Éponine up and down.

Enjolras took two large strides towards Delmont, which was enough for him to be face-to-face with him before Aluin's hands were clasped around Enjolras' arms again to keep him from moving forward.

Delmont raised his eyebrows. "Oh, is Enjolras in love at last? That's a laugh, monsieur. How could a girl as dull as_ she_ catch your eye?"

"Let us go, Delmont. We've no quarrel with you." Enjolras said, still struggling against Aluin's strong grip.

"Really? Well, _I_ have a quarrel with _you_. You see, I understand that it wasn't necessarily you who slept with my dear Aurélie, but you're quite close to Grantaire, so I figured killing you and having him discover your body would send a message, and we could get this whole revolt-fighting on a roll." Delmont grinned, and checked the gun to make sure that there were bullets loaded in.

"So all you want is a fight?" Enjolras snarled, straining against the grasp of Aluin. "Why don't you fight the oppressors rather than start gang-like fights in the streets over something as petty as-"

"Petty?! You think Grantaire taking my wife is petty! You know, even though you don't understand what love is, I was expecting you to be more understanding, Enj!" Delmont yelled, and delivered a swift and harsh kick to his gut, causing the golden-haired man to keel over in pain, grimacing. Éponine screamed through the man's hand, and fought against his strong grip, but he was just as strong, if not stronger, than Aluin, so it was for naught.

Aluin forced Enjolras back into a standing position, and the marble man didn't look very marble anymore. His expression was contorted in pain, his eyes watering, and his breath came out in harsh rasps since the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Aurélie was my everything!" Delmont screamed, his face red. He had obviously been holding these emotions in, because he seemed to be an animal of rage at the moment, and he struck Enjolras' face using the gun, and Éponine saw blood fly from her friend's mouth. She continued to struggle against her captor's grip, but he was far too strong. "I left my family behind for her! My sister got married and I wasn't there because I was fixing this place up for _her_! I used my savings to buy all these damn books to keep our cover! We never sold a single one, but I kept them because _she_ enjoyed reading them! How dare you think that my reasons for turning against you are petty?! We were going to have a family. We were going to have a life. But then Grantaire saunters in and gets my Aurélie drunk and next thing you know, they're in the back and…" His voice caught; tears were forming in his eyes, and though Éponine felt a pang of pity for him, she was still much more concerned for Enjolras. Delmont took a deep, shaky breath, and wiped away his tears. "So, yes. I would very much enjoy a good fight between the group of people I trusted most in this world. It's because of alcohol that Aurélie slept with Grantaire. I want Les Amis de L'ABC to suffer like they've never suffered before; that café Musain will go down in flames once you have, so you can all watch it burn from your jail cells! Except you." He sniffed and lifted Enjolras' head up by his hair; his jaw was at an awkward angle, there were a few small cuts on his cheek, and blood was trailing out of his mouth but his eyes were ablaze with fighting instinct. Delmont and Enjolras held each other's gazes for a while, blue against green, until finally, Delmont sighed and let Enjolras' head fall as he stepped back.

He cocked his gun, raising it to Enjolras. "I'm afraid I've got to kill you now. Maybe I'll kill Grantaire after, if things don't heat up fast enough. But at least without you, Les Amis de L'ABC will be weaker and easier to defeat. Au revoir, mon ami."

"NO!" Éponine screamed through the palm of her captor, and lifted her foot, shoving it behind her to the man's most sensitive area; a useful tactic she had learned in her time on the streets. He yelled in pain, and retracted his hands for a moment; which was just enough for Éponine to leap away from him and smack the gun out of Delmont's hand before he fired it. It flew across the room and hit the wall, sliding to the floor.

She dove after it, thudding to the ground just as her fingers clasped around the gun, and she spun over onto her back to point it squarely at Delmont. This wasn't the first time she held a gun, so her aim was quite good. He looked surprised and shaken, to say the least, and then he chuckled.

"Your girl seems to think she can beat me or something!" He laughed, and ran a hand through his messy black hair. "Give the gun here, sweetheart, and maybe I'll cut you loose. Who knows, maybe I'll even make you _my _girl." Delmont took a step towards her.

Éponine set her jaw and raised the gun to point at the ceiling, and she fired exactly one shot into the wood, causing Delmont to cringe and curse. She quickly pointed it back at him and cocked the gun again, looking severely pissed. "I'm not anyone's girl." She growled, and glanced at Aluin. "Let him go or I'll kill you both."

The man paused a moment, shared a glance with Delmont, then nodded and shoved Enjolras away from him. Éponine grabbed her friend by his arm, and started backing away towards the door. "The fuzz will be here in a minute. I don't think you wanna let them know you were about to kill a man in cold blood, so we'd appreciate it if you forgot this whole thing." She said menacingly, then shoved the door open and hooked them with one more cold gaze before turning around and dragging Enjolras down the street with her, their feet moving much faster than before.

They didn't go to Éponine's home because a gunshot would bring out all the worst criminals in her neighborhood, so they managed to find a taxi and get to Enjolras' apartment in about 30 minutes. The driver didn't ask why Enjolras was beaten, or why Éponine didn't seem to show her right hand often, he just accepted the money.

The brunette still carried the gun in her right hand, just in case anyone tried to attack her and Enjolras again.

"Which number is it, again?" She asked, and Enjolras blinked, looking up at the apartment building.

"C334. It's on the third floor." He said it in a funny manner, almost in a pained way, and Éponine noticed that his jaw still looked crooked; probably because of Delmont hitting him with the gun.

"Alright. Does this juncture have an elevator, or are we gonna have to trek up the stairs?" She asked, hoping to inflict some humor into their situation as the two began to walk into the building.

Enjolras winced as he touched his cheek. "My jaw is dislocated. I need…" He winced again in pain, and held his side where Delmont had kicked him. "I need to lay down for a while. You may leave after that." He made his way to the elevator and pressed the button, and in a few moments, the elevator was there. Éponine shook her head.

"Oh, no, you think I'm gonna leave you alone the whole night after what happened? We don't know how many accomplices that guy may have; you need protection." She said as she stepped into the elevator with him.

"And _you _can give me that protection?" Enjolras stated doubtfully.

Éponine cast a glance to him. "I've been dealing with gang members my whole life, monsieur, I know how they work."

"Delmont is not the leader of a gang." He said decidedly.

"Deny it all you want, and maybe he isn't one quite yet, but soon enough, he's going to gather his own men and one problem will turn into 5 problems and it will get so big that you'll need to lead a revolution _and _an army." She sighed and shoved open the doors of the elevator as they arrived onto his floor. "Come on, we need some ice or something."

"I can manage, Éponine." Enjolras said; he knew that she had no idea how to pop his jaw back into its' socket, but since he had been living with Joly for a while, he knew a few tricks here and there. He planned on getting his jaw back to normal, and then going to sleep. He didn't even want to think about the new problem of Delmont; it was all too much.

"You know, you would have been the first to deny me walking home on my own, and yet now you're suddenly okay with it." Éponine muttered as the two walked down the hallway. Enjolras huffed, and rubbed the corners of his eyes.

"It's been a long night, Éponine." Enjolras said tiredly.

"Trust me, I know." She said tightly.

He stopped in front of the apartment door and sighed again. It wouldn't be awful if he let Éponine in for a moment, perhaps stay the night, and their couch was pretty comfortable, so Enjolras could sleep there.

"Would you like to stay the night?" He asked, looking to her with drooping eyes. Éponine looked a little surprised, but her previously harsh expression softened.

"I guess." She shrugged, then noticed that she was still holding the gun. "Er, is this allowed, or…?"

Enjolras chuckled, though it hurt his jaw. "Yes, just don't fire it. I don't want to get into trouble with the landlord." He took out his key and opened the door with the practice of routine.

"Don't worry; but if Delmont comes crashing in in the middle of the night, I'm not saying I won't shoot his sorry ass." She grinned and entered after him.

Enjolras switched on the lights, revealing a spacious and beautiful apartment. Éponine was amazed, probably not as amazed as she was with the club, but she was still not used to being in such lush and comforting places. The living room and the kitchen were in the same vicinity, and in the far corner of the living room right next to the window was a desk and chair with a typewriter and papers littered all over and around it. A trashbin was next to the desk, and it was overflowing with crumpled—some torn—papers. The couch was a dark red and there was a dark red lounging chair just adjacent to it. A coffee table with a few cups and napkins was in front of the couch, which had a newspaper laying on it. The hallway to the left probably led to Enjolras' and Joly's bedrooms, which Éponine was interested to see. Of course, in the far left corner of the room, lay a grand piano next to the other window, where sheet music was littered across it.

"You may sleep in my bed; I'll sleep on the couch." Enjolras said, and moved down to the hallway, all the way to the end of it, and opened up a door and entered a white room. Éponine first set the gun on the kitchen table, trailed after him, still looking around the warm apartment. She discovered he was in the bathroom, leaning in front of the mirror as he held his jaw. He sighed, and looked to Éponine with a pained expression. "Don't be too surprised if I yell." And then jolted his hands to move his jaw to the left; she heard a pop and then a moan of suppressed pain from her friend. He opened and closed his jaw a few times, and sighed in relief. "Glad I got that out of the way."

"Me too. If you had a dislocated jaw, how could you possibly deliver all your speeches?" She smiled, and Enjolras straightened up, grinning back.

"Indeed. Would you like a drink?" Enjolras asked; now that he had straightened his jaw out, he figured he could stay awake a while if Éponine wasn't yet ready for bed. She smiled as the memory of when she first laid eyes on Enjolras, in the speakeasy, flowed into her mind. She still didn't know if he remembered her as the girl he had bought a drink for on the worst night of her life.

"I don't wanna keep you up." She leaned against the doorframe and picked at the paint absently.

"You won't. I just noticed that you didn't eat much at the-"

"Do you remember when you first met me?" Éponine asked suddenly; she wasn't sure why, but she simply needed to know if Enjolras did recognize her that night when she was messy and heartbroken. Perhaps it was because it was late and she was tired and her mind wasn't quite functioning properly.

Enjolras was a bit taken a back at first, but recovered quickly. "Well, if course. You were the girl I bought a drink for on the night Marius met Cosette. He wouldn't stop talking about it once he met Grantaire and I outside."

Éponine looked up, her eyes alight with happiness. "You remembered? When I first talked to you, I thought you were too… too above me to notice me again." She decided to ignore what Enjolras said about Marius and Cosette meeting for the first time.

Enjolras chuckled as he led Éponine out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. "No, I remember everyone I take an interest in." He opened a cupboard and took down two cups.

Éponine quirked an eyebrow as she sat down in a chair at the kitchen table. "You took an interest in me?" She folded her hands on the table in interest and ignored a clench in her gut when he said he had taken an interest in her.

"Not in that sense." Enjolras said quickly. He cleared his throat. "Grantaire and I were at the Musain, and we saw you sitting at the bar, holding a paper in your hands."

Éponine gulped. She still had that letter, but she hadn't dared opened it.

Enjolras laughed as he took a kettle of tea and put it on the stove, and he leaned his elbows on the counter, facing Éponine. "He told me that if I went over to you and kissed you, then he wouldn't drink for a week." Éponine laughed in response, and he noticed that her dimples came back again; she looked almost as happy as she did as when they were dancing at the club. He found himself smiling at her, and then he quickly glanced down to the cups and brought over the kettle and poured tea into them. "Of course, I knew that he wouldn't be able to keep up that challenge, and he was about 1 millimeter of beer away from passing out, so I needed to get him home in a hurry. Hence, the reason why I so rudely bought you a drink from far away and then left." He brought over the cups and set one in front of Éponine as he sat next to her and took a sip.

She brought the cup closer and warmed her hands for a moment, letting the pitter patter of rain on the glass window fill up the silence. "You weren't rude. That actually made my night brighter." She smiled and took a sip of the delicious tea. It was silent again, and Éponine felt the need to apologize for her actions in the club, but right as she began to say something, Enjolras began to speak at the same time. They laughed, and Enjolras shook his head.

"It's fine, you can say what you were going to say." He took another sip of tea.

"Okay. Well, I'm just…" She looked down at her hands and traced her palm lines with her index finger. Éponine was never good at genuine apologies. "I'm sorry. For, um, for how I acted in the club. I kind of overreacted, and I was just-"

"Éponine." Enjolras clasped his hand over both of hers, and she looked up into his eyes. Once again, the marble man didn't look very marble anymore. His expression was soft, his eyes were understanding, and his hands were warm and calloused. "I understand. You were overwhelmed because your parents were in the club. It's all right, and I'm sorry, too, for saying what I said. I would very much enjoy it if we could move past this, if you'll forgive me." He gave a small smile, never once breaking eye contact.

Éponine suddenly couldn't breathe. She seemed a little entranced, as silly as it sounds. For a moment, she felt captured in his gaze, but then her eyes traveled to the small cuts on his cheek and the bruise that was forming, and finally to his lips. Her stomach tightened and she quickly looked back into his eyes, but she found that he wasn't looking at her eyes, either; he seemed to be staring at her lips, as well, but his eyes darted back like hers. "Of course." She almost whispered, and turned her attention to her drink, straightening up in her chair. She regretfully moved her hands out from his warm one, and took a swig of her drink, ignoring the fact that she basically burned her tongue. Why did she feel that way? She remembered only feeling like that around Marius, but it was stronger around Enjolras.

Was she _seriously _falling for Enjolras? No. No, of course she wasn't. Éponine tried to push the thought out of her mind, but charming characteristics of his kept flowing into her thoughts, and she couldn't stop thinking about every tiny thing he had done for her in the past. First the drink, then the studying sessions, then he complimented her on her dress, walked her to her home and didn't judge her for her family, and then he walked her home from the club? Could it be possible he liked her back? She glanced at Enjolras, who was looking out the window next to his desk. His hair was a little fluffy because of the moisture in the air, and her cheeks warmed at the thought of tangling her hair through those curls.

"Could it really be possible Delmont is a gang leader?" He asked quietly, snapping Éponine out of her thoughts. She seemed a little surprised and at first didn't remember or really care who Delmont was, but then recalled what had happened about an hour before.

"Well… All the characteristics are there." She said. _'I would know.'_

Enjolras sighed and his gaze followed the little droplets on the glass that were racing against each other to reach the bottom. "He's just been my friend for a very long time. I remember helping to build that trapdoor, right behind the counter, next to that painting of a ship on the Boston Harbor." He looked down, seeming to be lost in memories.

Éponine felt a pang of sadness for him; how could she possibly be thinking of romance when he was having an inner turmoil of his friend betraying him and almost killing him? She needed to be there for him, and besides, she wasn't sure if those feelings were even real. Perhaps it was just a result of exhaustion; and she still felt that familiar twinge of love whenever she thought of Marius, so how could she possibly fall for two people at once?

"I'm sorry." Was all she could think to say. He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Well, there's not much anyone can do. He seems quite determined to get a fight going, though. We must think of this objectively, as if he were never my friend in the first place." He said, and took another sip of tea.

"We?" Éponine asked, a little surprised.

"Well," Enjolras looked to her. "You _do _know how gangs or mafias work."

"Yes. They don't involve women in the least. We aren't allowed in fights, or planning of fights, or-"

"I never said that _we _were a gang, Éponine." Enjolras smiled a little. "I don't plan on turning Les Amis de L'ABC into a bunch of street-fighting idiots."

"That would be awful." Éponine grinned. She knew that her parents and their gang were quite stupid, and after she and Enjolras had made amends, she didn't take offense at all. Plus, she very much enjoyed being included in this whole thing; Marius never really included her in anything unless he wanted something from her. "I think we should just stock up on weapons, but only attack if attacked, you know? Because if we throw the first punch, the blood will always be on our hands."

Enjolras nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still glued on Éponine. "I agree. Perhaps if we warned people in other speakeasies beforehand of Delmont's intentions, we could gain more people on our side if ever we needed to call for backup."

"Good idea. Except, we should pick speakeasies he doesn't go to often, because then we run the risk of running into double-agents. We still don't know how many people are on his side…" She bit her thumbnail, looking down at her tea.

"Indeed." Enjolras sighed, and his head fell into his hands. "I'm very sorry, but I'm extremely tired. Would you like to go to bed?"

"Yes." Éponine smiled, and stood up with him and walked over to the sink to put their cups in the sink. He stood next to her for a moment, and then Éponine chuckled a bit.

"You know, we never did finish that dance." She smiled and he looked at her, a bit surprised. To be honest, she just wanted to see how it would feel to be held by him, and if she would get all giddy like she would if it were Marius that were holding her.

"Is it that important?" He asked, obviously confused as to why Éponine was bringing this up _now._

"No. Sorry, I'm just… tired." Éponine frowned, and mentally scolded herself for being so stupid and needy. They had been through a serious ordeal, and Enjolras had a lot on his mind; the last thing he needed was Éponine throwing herself at him to see if she really did like him.

Enjolras paused, looking his friend up and down thoughtfully, then sighed. "You know, some slow dancing might clear my mind for a bit. And studies have shown that dancing can be very therapeutic." He strode over to a record player against the wall, and put on a slow jazz record, then turned and held his hand out for Éponine. "And I do believe we deserve a nice dance in exchange for everything awful that happened tonight."

She smiled brightly, and her dimples showed, and she almost ran over to her friend, joining her hand in his and placing her other on his shoulder lazily. He expertly put his hand on her hip, pulling her into his warm embrace. They were basically hugging each other, Éponine resting her head on his chest, and he resting his chin on her head.

Their feet shuffled lazily on the wooden floor, and the music seemed to lull them into a sleepy trance, so soon both of their eyes were closed. Enjolras' breathing was rhythmic and calming to Éponine, and he smelled like rain and smoke. She unconsciously pulled herself closer to him, and he unconsciously accepted.

Enjolras wasn't sure when he realized this, but his hand felt quite comfortable clasped around Éponine's, and his other hand seemed to fit perfectly into the nook of his friend's waist. He could feel her tiny smile through his shirt, which in turn caused him to smile peacefully. Bit by bit, his problems seemed to seep out of his mind and onto the floor where his and her feet were moving side to side, side to side…

All they could seem to focus on was each other, and the world slowed down and the music glued them together, and they warmed each other with their unspoken promise of friendship, and they would both classify this moment as perfect, comforting, loving.

Of course, all good things must come to an end; in one quick instant, Joly pretty much crashed through the door clumsily with his arm around Musichetta.

Enjolras and Éponine ripped apart; she was blushing furiously, but he just looked confused and a little mad as to why someone interrupted this lovely moment with a close friend.

"Joly!" Enjolras exclaimed, and Joly raised his eyebrows, his gaze flitting between Enjolras and Éponine.

"Er… I can go somewhere else." He said, and a tiny smile crept onto his lips. Musichetta had realized what was going on long before Joly, and she was grinning incredibly widely to her friend.

"That's… not necessary." Enjolras said, glancing to Éponine. For a moment, he wondered why she was so red and why Joly was smiling in such a manner. Then, when he thought of the position he and Éponine were in, it occurred to him. He sighed, a little irritated at how everyone was assuming things about him and how Les Amis were pushing him to get into a relationship. "That meant nothing. Goodnight, Éponine." Enjolras said curtly, and walked over to the couch and lay down on it.

"Wait, I thought-" Éponine began.

"No, I'll sleep on the couch; you sleep in my bed, Éponine." Enjolras said. She smiled a little because she liked how her name sounded when he said it, and because of how considerate he was acting.

"Or, you two could always share his bed." Musichetta suggested, still smiling broadly. Joly suppressed a laugh, and Éponine reddened even more.

The golden-haired man said nothing, but was obviously quite mad as he turned over onto his side with his nose facing the couch cushion.

"We'll talk in the morning." Musichetta whispered, and winked at Éponine as she and Joly went into his room.

Éponine was a little flustered, to say the least. Was she really feeling those… _feelings_ for that marble man? How could she? He would never see her as anything other than a friend, she thought as she walked slowly and almost dazed-like into his room. She closed the door quietly, and slipped out of her expensive red dress and beautiful but uncomfortable shoes. In nothing but underwear, the brunette slipped under the covers, and noticed that the rain was lightening up a bit. She curled up in a tight ball; Éponine had never been in a bed this soft and nice-smelling before!

She grabbed a few extra pillows and placed them around her for extra comfort, and as the drizzling rain lulled her to sleep, Éponine didn't miss this opportunity to inhale the musk of Enjolras coming off of the warm sheets.


	9. A Feast and A Good Scare

**A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for all the support and reviews! You guys seriously make my life, I was smiling like an idiot the whole time I was reading the reviews! Some of you were on guest, so to the two of you who were anonymous, thank you so much for your compliments! I had almost forgotten about this fic, too, but thank goodness for inspiration!**

**And to ConcreteAngel, THANK YOU! I'm so flattered because you said it was one of the best AUs you've ever read; it just made me so happy! **

**This chapter is gonna start out odd, but I would like Éponine's feelings start to develop out of a humorous situation that we've all experienced before ;) Thank you so much for reading, and enjoy!**

* * *

Éponine wasn't sure how they had gotten into this position, but she was not complaining in the least. Enjolras' left hand was cupped around her cheek, and his right was placed on her thigh, and she could tell he was struggling to keep himself under control. Their lips were interlocked, both holding back because they were too stubborn and wanted the other to break before they did.

Éponine obviously made it her objective in this moment to turn Enjolras into a shuddering puddle of want, which is what she would become in a few small moments. She moved one hand into his hair, and gently started massaging his scalp, which made Enjolras' right hand tighten. Éponine smirked against his lips, which she knew he felt, and moved her other hand underneath his shirt, where she barely trailed her fingers over his toned body, memorizing each and every muscle she came across.

The marble man let out a short, soft grunt, but Éponine wanted more. She bit his lip ever so slightly, and kissed him more fervently. She was convinced that she had him wrapped around her finger, but he did something unexpected and completely out of character just then; he broke his lips apart from hers, and moved them to her neck, where he bit and sucked and pulled Éponine closer to him. She gasped, and pulled her hand out from his shirt so that she could put both of her hands in his hair, where she pulled and tangled the gold strands like there was no tomorrow.

He moved his hips ever so slightly, and they both maneuvered themselves so that he was on top of her, her legs wrapped around his waist, and his kisses trailing everywhere he could reach. Éponine couldn't stand it; every movement he made spread fire throughout her very being, and she muttered his name through clenched teeth.

"What was that?" He asked, his voice raspy and downright sexy. Enjolras looked up from his current position, which was just above Éponine's stomach; his lips were puffy and his hands were gripping her thighs and Éponine saw a light of challenge in his eyes. She was obviously going to be the first to break and melt into him, but she would try to keep her cool for as long as possible. So, Éponine sat up and pulled his chin up to meet her face, and she placed her hips strategically on top of his, wrapping her legs around his waist, and put her lips a breath away from his.

"I said," She whispered, and looked sharply into his eyes, which were glazed with lust and fighting an inner battle of staying cool or taking Éponine right then and there. "Enjolras." Éponine muttered his name slowly, enunciating every syllable, just to get under his skin. Just then, she saw in his eyes that the latter of his inner battle had won, and he shoved her down, his lips colliding with hers.

"Éponine!"

She jolted awake, in the same bed as last night, except drool was hanging from her mouth and there was a small puddle on the pillow she was hugging. Éponine was tangled in a mess of pillows and sheets, which she had kicked off of her last night, and she looked around quickly, fully aware that she was blushing as she wiped the drool from her lip. A gray light was entering through the blinds of Enjolras' room because it was still overcast, and that was when she noticed that a light blanket was draped over her. She touched it with her fingers, and noticed the smell of coffee; looking over to the night stand, there was a warm cup there, welcoming her with steam.

Éponine tucked her hair behind her ear, refusing to think of who might have put it there; perhaps it was just Musichetta, not Enjolras. Speaking of which…

Did she seriously just have one of _those _dreams about her friend? She was still blushing furiously, a little mad at herself that she had thought of Enjolras in that way for even a second. Éponine looked down to her current attire, which was underwear, and blushed even redder; what if Enjolras had come in before she had woken up and placed this blanket over her, and then set the cup of coffee on the desk, thus seeing her all exposed like she was?

Éponine sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands, trying to ignore how good that coffee smelled and how much she wanted it. No, she couldn't risk developing rebound-feelings for Enjolras just because she couldn't have Marius. How selfish of her! Plus, he had the revolution to worry about, and she needed to help Enjolras with his new problem of Delmont, and how could she help him with such things if she kept getting distracted over how nice he looked when he's concentrating and how his eyebrows furrowed when he's confused and how his hands felt over her skin—

"Éponine, darling, you better wake up soon! The radio news will be on in a moment!" Musichetta's voice called.

Oh! Éponine had woken from… _that_ dream… because someone had called her name, but she thought it was all a part of the dream.

"Coming!" She called, and scrambled out of bed, slipping on the dress from last night and dashing out of the room to the kitchen.

Joly and Musichetta were sitting at the kitchen table, completely at ease with the gun that was in the middle of it from last night, drinking coffee, reading the newspaper, and Enjolras was on the couch, hunched over and rubbing his neck. He was wearing a shirt, but it was unbuttoned and Éponine looked away quickly. '_No; no feeling anything other than friendship!' _She scolded herself.

"Where's the cup of coffee I brought you?" Musichetta asked, looking surprised. "Also, good morning, sleeping beauty." She grinned and took a sip of her own coffee. Éponine relaxed a little when she heard that it was Musichetta who had brought her the coffee.

"Oh, sorry, I'll go get it." She said, and left, then returned with the coffee as she sat at the table with Musichetta and Joly.

"Enjolras, come join us! We were just about to hear the news." Joly called, folding up the newspaper and turning on the radio.

"Fine." He grumbled, running a hand through his curly hair as he got up and walked over to the kitchen, reaching into the cupboard and getting out a cup, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Right as the announcer came on the air, Enjolras came and sat next to Éponine, his eyelids droopy and his stature hunched; unlike his usual self. She shifted in her seat, ignoring the feeling of his lips and hands all over her body, and how much she had enjoyed it and how much she wanted to do such things to him now.

"_Good morning! It's currently 8:06 am, November 4__th__ 1920 in the beautiful city of Chicago! The weather was quite a bit wet last night, wasn't it folks? Yessiree, I had to run home and fetch my raincoat before I went and visited a very new and very glamorous club called the Chez Paree, owned by a Monsieur Fauchelevent. He sure does know his stuff, because golly did that place have rhythm! I was dancing so much last night, I think my feet fell off. There were many public officials there, as well as celebrities, such as D.W. Griffeth, Charles Lindbergh, and Al Smith! Everyone was havin' a bangin'-slammin' good time, but every rose has its' thorns. _

_About 2 hours into the opening of the Chez Paree, a ruckus occurred on the dance floor. Many of my sources tell me that a man and a woman in their mid-40s were pickpocketing many of the attendees, and after further inspection, were found out to have been smuggled into the party! No one knows for sure who this criminal was that smuggled them inside, but the names of the two thieves have been released: Thénardier. So look out folks, just in case they get snuck out of jail! Their bail is currently listed at $150."_

Éponine felt crushed; she looked down to the table, and held back a sigh. Who was at her home now, taking care of Azelma and Gavroche? Did Montparnasse make it out undetected? She didn't put it past her parents if she found out that they threw her and her siblings under the bus in the hopes of getting out of jail sooner. She could feel Enjolras' gaze on her, but she ignored how nice it felt that he was paying attention to/thinking of her.

"_And that's not all! About an hour after that whole fiasco, on 42__nd__ street, a shot from a gun was heard, inside a bookstore and now a known speakeasy called the Lucky Clover. A policeman and two of his officers were found at the scene, but the police aren't releasing any more details other than that."_

Éponine and Enjolras shared a look of relief; at least Delmont kept his trap shut.

"_It's been a shared effort of public officials to find every speakeasy they can, and shut them down so that drunks don't roam the streets and hurt our women and children. Therefore, public officials have released a statement saying that they are to be searching all buildings they suspect of hiding a speakeasy, and/or tunnels leading to other speakeasies. Here, we have a guest speaker who is a full-time supporter of the Prohibition…"_

Joly clicked off the radio, and all four of them sat in silence for a while, sipping on their coffee.

Enjolras sighed, rubbing his temples. Musichetta glanced at Éponine, who was staring at the floor, her jaw set and her hands gripping the chair tightly. Joly cleared his throat.

"Um, Éponine, would you like to go home with Musichetta? Enjolras and I…"

"Yes, we'll go, darling." Musichetta kissed Joly, then stood up and grabbed her purse from the counter. Enjolras and Éponine shared one more glance, then the brunette stood up and made her way to the door, where her shoes were; she slipped them on, and Musichetta walked out of the door with Éponine just as Enjolras asked Joly to get Combeferre on the telephone.

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to come back to my place?" Musichetta asked as the taxi they were sharing drove up to the edge of Éponine's neighborhood.

"I'm sure. Thanks, Musichetta. Have a good day." She said, getting out quickly.

"Try to come to Enjolras' apartment tonight at 7pm! I'll be there, so will Cosette!" Musichetta called as the taxi drove away. Well, if Cosette was going to be there, then Marius would be there, and Éponine didn't want to deal with those two cuddling.

She figured they weren't going to meet at the Musain because it would run the risk of them being caught by Delmont or just the regular authorities.

To be honest, Éponine felt quite relieved that her parents were in jail because they were out of the way; but at the same time, they might rat her or her siblings out and then she would be a known wanted criminal. She began to make her way through alleyways, avoiding the gazes of the occasional person on the street, and eventually stopped in front of her home. She could hear Azelma and Gavroche giggling and laughing inside, and she smiled instantly; they hadn't laughed like that in a while, and it was a relief to hear them safe.

She hurried up to the door and opened it, but her smile instantly turned into a frown when she saw that it was Montparnasse that was making them laugh. He looked up, still smiling, and then stood up, making his way over to Éponine.

" 'Ponine! How nice to see you. I was just telling them a story about-"

"What are you doing here?" She asked bluntly. "Azelma, Gavroche, go upstairs."

The two huffed, and reluctantly made their way up the stairs while Éponine glared at the man before her.

Montparnasse raised and lowered his eyebrows, glancing to the floor like a kid trying to hold back a giggle.

"What?!" Éponine snapped irritably. "You know, I really don't appreciate you coming here and 'helping'. I can take care of them fine on my own, especially without my parents around."

"Really? Not to be rude, doll, but you were kinda gone the whole night. I saw you leave with that golden-haired guy. Is he your new boyfriend, or just another way to earn some extra income?" Montparnasse smirked, then walked over to the table by the door, and picked up a rose that was lying on it. He turned and gave it to a surprised but still pissed Éponine, a sly grin on his face. "Saw that and thought of you. I really do miss you, 'Ponine. And I only came here last night because I knew you wouldn't come back."

"How did you know that?" She bit out.

"Who would wanna come back to this shithole, regardless of whatever family is waiting for them? And after that gunshot, it was better that I was here with Azelma and Gavroche; apparently some new guy is making a name for himself, and I heard that he was the cause of that ruckus. I guess his name is Delmont." He said, shrugging.

"What? Delmont?" Éponine blinked quickly, feeling her stomach tighten.

"Mhm. A lot of your father's gang joined up with him, since your dad ain't getting out for a while. By the way, ever since I've gotten a taste for these rich clothes, I expect to be making more frequent visits to the local tailor for more stuff like this." He looked at his jacket admirably.

"Wait, what are people saying about this Delmont fellow? How has he made a name for himself?" Éponine walked over to the kitchen table slowly, setting the rose down.

"Well, apparently he killed a man and pinned it on—you remember the old man that used to live next to you?—well, that's how the old guy got evicted and put away, all because he didn't pay Delmont back like 5 bucks in debt. People are saying Delmont's a sneaky, back-stabbing bastard, and yet they still follow him. Bit stupid, if you ask me; I had no interest in following a guy like that." He took an apple from off of the table, and took a bite out of it. Montparnasse looked at Éponine, and noticed her almost terrified expression, and instantly got up in arms. "Why, has he hurt you?"

"No. Thanks for staying with Azelma and Gavroche. Please leave." Éponine said quietly. Montparnasse paused, reluctant to leave, but he complied because the brunette obviously needed time alone.

"Alright. See you later, sugar." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, but Éponine paid no mind.

Just as he was about to walk out the door, she looked up. "Wait. Can you come by here at 7 to watch Azelma and Gavroche again?"

"Going to visit your boyfriend, I see." Montparnasse said, and Éponine fought back a blush and/or a smack. He scoffed, looking a little hurt, but eventually nodded. "Alright. But you owe me, 'Ponine." And with that, he left.

Éponine sighed, and let her head fall onto the table, where she closed her eyes and let her thoughts race through her mind.

Firstly, she needed to find some way to get her parents out of jail before they threw her or her siblings or even Montparnasse under the bus, and worry about her father's previous gang and how they were now on Delmont's side. Perhaps that was a good thing, because she knew how they worked, but Delmont would warp their minds to no repair, and turn them into monsters.

Secondly, she still had Enjolras on the mind. She hadn't stopped thinking about him ever since last night, and it was almost torture for her to sit next to him this morning because that dream was so vivid, and the worst thing was that she liked it. How could she possibly come to develop a crush on the marble man, the leader of a revolution, and now in charge of keeping a gang of rogue policemen and criminals from terrorizing their home? He was too much of a friend, but apparently now she could only see him as a romantic partner.

Whatever happened to her feelings for Marius? Sure, she still felt that awful pang of heartache every time she saw him, but it was much duller now than it was on that night Marius and Cosette met.

That seemed like such a long time ago. Éponine smiled a little at the memory; that was the same night she met Enjolras. Or, rather, saw him. Perhaps it was fate telling her to let go of Marius and move on to Enjolras? Despite everything awful that had happened in her life, Éponine still believed in Cupid's arrow and fate and all that superstitious fluff.

But she didn't want to be 'in love' with another man again. It hurt too much before, and it didn't end well for her. She still had that note that Cosette had written, up in her room, underneath her bed. Perhaps if she read it, then she would know for sure if she was still in love with Marius or not. Éponine got up and hurried to her room, lifting up the mattress and pulling out the note.

She took a deep breath, sitting on the crumpled and dirty sheets. The memory of falling asleep in Enjolras' bed warmed her heart, and she smiled a little, but quickly shook her head and tore open the note.

'_Dearest Marius,_

_It was on this night that I feel my life has truly begun. I never knew that there was such a thing as love at first sight, until I laid my eyes on you. Marius, my dear Marius, I love saying and writing and hearing and thinking your name! I have never been more happy in my life; you seem to have illuminated it like a candle on a cold winter's night, and everything is warm and soft and pure and I love you._

_Is it too soon to be saying such things? I don't care. I love you, I know I do, and I will miss you dearly. You see, my father has told me that in about 2 months, we will be leaving Chicago and go to London. I'm not sure why, dear Marius, but he will not explain or reconsider. I will spend as much time as I can with you, if you wish. _

_My heart aches to even think of leaving you, so promise me to just be with me and not think about my leaving for a while. I just want to take in as much of you as I can before I go. I love you, Marius. I love you._

_Cosette'_

Hm. She felt nothing. Nothing except worry for Marius and Cosette and how guilty she felt for never giving this to Marius. How dare she! That wasn't her place, and now Marius and Cosette had about a month and a half left together.

Although, she couldn't help but think about how she didn't feel any lovesickness or heartache for Marius. To be honest, she felt closure; Éponine now knew for sure that there was absolutely no chance of her and Marius getting together in that way, and she felt happy. She felt free.

Éponine stood and gave a huge sigh of relief.

"'Ponine, we're hungry." Gavroche said behind her, from the doorway.

Éponine turned around and smiled, tucking the letter back under her bed. She would give it to Marius tonight, if he would be at Enjolras' apartment. Thinking of Enjolras now gave Éponine a little feeling of excitement coursing through her and she felt a little tingle up her spine.

"Alright, I'll go and get us some food." She said, walking past her brother and ruffling his hair. He grunted, and mussed his hair back to its place.

"How are you gonna do that? You don't have no money." He said sourly, crossing his arms; he must not have eaten last night.

"Any money." She corrected. On her spare time, Éponine would teach Azelma and Gavroche what Enjolras taught her; or perhaps she could have Enjolras teach them himself! "And, yes I do! I pickpocketed an old geezer last night, got myself a 20. I can get you and Azelma anything you want!" She smiled, and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. Gavroche lit up, and called Azelma down as he listed all of the things he wanted.

"Donuts, chocolate, French fries, a hot dog, a-" Gavroche was interrupted by Azelma.

"Some pizza! And some bonbons! And also that good bread from the bakery we stole from that one time!"

Éponine chuckled; she might be able to get just about everything on that list, and she figured they deserved a delicious feast after last night. "Alright! I'll be back in a jiffy, be good to each other!" She called, then hurried out of the house, making sure to lock it behind her, and made her way to the market.

* * *

"You know, I didn't know my mouf could hold vis much shtuff." Gavroche said around a mouthful of various food bits Éponine had bought (with $1.50 to spare!), and both Éponine and Azelma laughed. Azelma threw a piece of bread into Gavroche's open mouth, and cackled when he didn't notice because of all the food stuffed in his cheeks.

"This is sooo good, Éponine!" Azelma said happily, taking another bite of the deep-dish pizza from a very good pizzeria from down the street. "You know, the rich can buy all the caviar or cars or whatever it is they buy, but we can get food and actually appreciate it!"

"Amen!" Gavroche laughed after he finally swallowed his food. He went to work on another slice of pizza, and Éponine smiled contentedly.

"Very true, Azelma. But, you know, not all rich people are bad." She pointed out, biting off a piece of bread with jam.

Azelma raised an eyebrow. "Uhm, we kinda discovered how bad rich people are at that party last night. Those stupid riches had their hands all over me, and they tried to make Gavroche into some kinda little gentleman or something. They think that if we don't live like them, then we have zero happiness, which I think is unfair, because we do. Sometimes."

Éponine stayed silent; that was true. Enjolras and the rest of Les Amis probably treated Éponine specially because they felt sorry for her just because she didn't grow up like they did. A little flare of anger sparked inside her, but she kept it smothered because she didn't want to get unnecessarily angry. Besides, they were good to her, right?

"Yeah! And this group of boys I got sucked into were so stuck up, it's like I could see the stick in their ass. They kept asking me these questions about classes I'm taking or something stupid like that. Ech, I never wanna learn out of a textbook. I got all my smarts right here, out on the streets." He grinned, chewing more bites of his pizza.

Éponine gulped. He didn't want to learn? But learning was so fun and empowering! It made Éponine feel superior to her family in every way, and she didn't feel that way often; was that a bad thing? Perhaps she shouldn't learn or help Enjolras anymore. If she stayed out of the revolution and the sure soon-to-be fight between Delmont and Les Amis, then she wouldn't put her life at risk, and she could always pickpocket the corpses like her mother and father had done to multiple people in the streets.

She winced at the very thought of walking over Les Amis' dead bodies, reaching into their pockets, and then just leaving them there. How could she possibly do that to anyone? That was so immoral and wrong; but how would she know? She was raised to use whatever means possible to get money; why was she suddenly feeling guilty about whenever she stole or drank or did anything illegal?

Because she was getting smart. Ignorance is bliss, after all. That saying always stuck in Éponine's head ever since she read it in a book in the Musain, next to Enjolras. Perhaps Éponine needed to quit while she was ahead, before she hurt herself further. After all, this learning would get her nowhere if she couldn't get into a university like Les Amis.

Plus, she had all the smarts she needed, like Gavroche said. And if she kept hanging out with Les Amis, what if she developed an even bigger crush for Enjolras? What if that crush didn't go away? What if, because she abandoned her family for intelligence, Les Amis kicked her out one day and then she would have nowhere to go with nothing but knowledge about history and oxford commas?

"That's true." Éponine said quietly; her brain wouldn't shut up. Perhaps it would be better if she abandoned Les Amis; then, she wouldn't have to worry about her life being at stake, and she could lay low like she always did.

But something about that sounded boring. She had been laying low all her life, in the shadows and the muck and the dark. Now she finally had a chance to actually do something with her life! If she died young, it would be for a good cause and she would be dying with people she loved. Éponine knew how bad gang fights could get, and based on what she was hearing about Delmont, he would most definitely one day start a fight with Les Amis, and it would get bloody fast. There would be casualties, just like there always were, because she suspected Delmont fought dirty.

But Les Amis didn't know that. How could they? None of them had experience like she, and they needed her whether they thought so or not. She didn't want them to die because they didn't know what they were dealing with.

So, no. She wasn't going to abandon Les Amis just because she was scared of a crush, or because she was scared of what her family would think of her. As much as she loved Azelma and Gavroche, Éponine needed to go her own way at one point or another, and that point was presenting itself now, so she was opting to take the road less traveled and go with her gut.

"Mm, smells good!" Montparnasse said from the doorway. Éponine looked up, and raised an eyebrow. "It's almost 7, doll, you better hurry on over to your boyfriend. Keeping him waiting would be quite rude." He grinned, and Éponine rolled her eyes.

"I'll be gone in a minute." She said, walking upstairs to her room. She still hadn't changed out of her party dress from last night, and she didn't really want to, but Éponine did miss her old clothes. Plus, the red dress was not exactly clean, since she had been sweating bullets when she was being held captive by that brute last night in front of Delmont. She slipped on a simple, worn light blue dress along with her normal shoes, and grabbed a shawl and wrapped it around her for a little bit of extra warmth. As she exited her room, she tucked the letter Cosette had written to Marius in her pocket, and walked down the stairs; Montparnasse was waiting at the foot of them with her cloche hat in hand.

She hadn't worn that since the night Marius and Cosette had met… Éponine snatched it out of his hands and shoved it onto her head, glaring at him angrily. No matter what, she hated his presence.

"Have fun, darling." Montparnasse grinned, and kissed her on the forehead.

"Don't tell me what to do." She said back; it was a stupid comment, but Éponine just wanted to piss him off a little.

Montparnasse chuckled, and walked over to Azelma and Gavroche.

"Ooooh, Éponine's off to see her boyfriend!" Gavroche hollered, and Éponine blushed as she slammed the front door closed. Azelma's and Gavroche's giggles were heard from behind the door, and Éponine couldn't help but smile as she made her way out of her neighborhood to find a taxi.

* * *

With only 75 cents left due to the taxi ride, Éponine was standing once again outside of Enjolras' apartment complex. She smiled at the memory of him with his dislocated jaw and how funny he sounded, but then she remembered her dream memory of his jaw and his stubble brushing against her skin, and she pushed the thought out of her mind.

She looked to her left, and noticed that a police car was parked just across the street from the apartment buildings. Panic began to rise, and she felt bile in her throat as she quickly made her way into the apartment, stepping into the elevator with her eyes to the floor.

The police were here? What if they were onto her? What if Delmont had made up some lie about Enjolras and now he was being arrested? What if they found the Musain and they were here to arrest everyone who ever visited that speakeasy? Éponine set her jaw, refusing to let her panic show; she had to keep a clear head, to lie to get out of a sticky situation, just like always.

The elevator opened on Enjolras' floor, and she stepped out holding her head high. She was sure that the police were here for her friends or for her; if they only wanted Éponine, she would go without a fight. Montparnasse would take care of Azelma and Gavroche, as much as she hated the thought, because he really did care about them.

Then again, what if that police car belonged to Delmont and he was here to finish the job he had begun at The Lucky Clover?

That thought made Éponine's pace quicken. No, if Enjolras was in pain or danger, she needed to save him. Just like she did last time, because she owed him that. He had done so much for her, and she cared for him so much already, and she almost ran into Enjolras' apartment door, not even attempting to knock. She flung the door open, breathing quickly because her thoughts got the better of her and she was most definitely panicked.

The apartment was filled with all of Les Amis; Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Joly at the table; Marius and Cosette, and Bahorel and Musichetta at the counter; Grantaire next to Jehan, Feuilly, Bahorel, and Bossuet.

They all turned to look at her, along with the four policemen in the room with crossed arms and stern expressions.

"Yep, that's her."


End file.
